


we drift in and out

by spacebubble



Category: Star Trek: Deep Space Nine
Genre: Flashbacks, Fluff and Angst, It's the quodo past present and future, M/M, Post-Canon, Pre-Canon, an ever-shifting ratio of angst and humor, and more of an astronomical denouement..., mild to less mild alcohol mentions
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2016-12-01
Updated: 2017-06-05
Packaged: 2018-09-03 13:03:28
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 8
Words: 55,958
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8715010
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/spacebubble/pseuds/spacebubble
Summary: Post-finale WIP: Odo returns from the Great Link without much of a plan in mind besides reuniting with Quark. They try to take care of some unfinished business, deal with some old ghosts, and float through time and space. There's also the small matter of escaping a malevolent alien or two. But hey, what’s love without danger?





	1. everything you wanted to find

**Author's Note:**

> **Aug 2017:** hello and welcome to my quodo mixtape. it's been a long road...
> 
> what started as a series of short post-canon headcanon stories has gradually evolved into a deeper journey of quark and odo reconciling their past identities with their present selves, or something like that. i'm still revising a few more things in chs 2-5 [mainly ch. 2] before wrapping everything up later this year (hence the fluctuating word count lol), but the main content is like, there. chs 7 and 8 are particularly good, imo. 
> 
> see you on the other side eventually :)
> 
> (for new readers: tbh, it's more T than not, with individual warnings per chapter as needed.)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Quark's often dreamed of Odo's return to the station, but none of that prepares him for the real thing.

It was well past last call at the bar, and Quark’s attention kept drifting away.

Only Morn remained, so Quark no longer bothered with the pretense of staying on the other side of the counter. He leaned heavily on the countertop next to Morn, the hard surface digging into his elbow as he polished one more glass to stay awake.

Quark wasn’t ready to call it a night just yet. Going back to his quarters meant going back to sleep, and sleeping meant dreaming, and he wasn’t in any particular hurry to dream again. So he kept on polishing and listening, even if it was only half-listening.

He tried not to zone out completely as Morn dove deeply into explaining the intricate network of friends of friends of brothers-in-laws of other friends within his inner circle. The odds were about fifty-fifty that Morn’s gossip might have a worthwhile payoff, and Quark was used to sacrificing a little sleep here and there, if only just to keep Morn company.

Anything for his favorite customer - and a chance at a lucrative lead, of course.

Besides, things had been quieter since Rom and Leeta left for Ferenginar. It had been months before Quark remembered to stop trying to locate Rom for emergency repairs, and despite their weekly calls, it just wasn’t the same as seeing his brother every day.

Things were quieter on the station in general during peacetime. Even those who remained were more frequently away from the station than not. Ezri was off to yet another conference, armed to the teeth with breakthroughs in some obscure branch of neuroscience that Quark politely tolerated learning about for exactly one hour. And, Kira, well...

Kira had tried to visit more often, but as commanding officer of the station, there was really only so much time her a day that she could spare for minding one Ferengi bartender. They had reached a semblance of a friendship over the years, but even Kira’s visits were fewer and farther between now that she was dating Lieutenant Ro.

Quark couldn’t begrudge her. He still remembered their one deeply drunken late night confessional, the night Kira broke the news to him that she had finally accepted she needed to move on from Odo and that she was going to have her first date with Ro the next day, that Ro was the best and she was so sorry because she knew how smitten Quark had been with Ro and could Quark ever forgive her?

And Quark, on the verge of passing out and thus much more prone to baring his true feelings, had laughed it off, saying there was nothing to forgive, that he knew he never had a chance with Ro and that he really knew how to pick ‘em, yet another security chief falling for the unparalleled Kira Nerys! But honestly, he was happy for Kira, because Kira was fantastic and Ro was fantastic and Kira deserved to be happy after losing Bareil and Odo -

“Hey,” Kira interrupted him gently, “Odo’s not dead, Quark.”

“He might as well be,” Quark groaned, words slurring together. “When’s the last time any of us heard from the man? He’s probably not even himself anymore, all absorbed back into that, that _great goo orgy_ like spilled ale in another… spilled... thing. You can’t unmix _that_ drink!”

“Quark, you know that’s not how the Link works.”

“Goo. Orgy.” Quark rasped, before he blacked out completely. 

Not his best night.

Was Morn _still_ talking? Quark returned to the present and noted that Morn was in the middle of a meandering detour into the intricacies of Cardassian politics. He envisioned himself growing as old as Zek before Morn finally got to the point.

Honestly, there was only so much conversation that a well-meaning and courageously patient bartender could take.

Quark nudged him with his shoulder. “Morn, c’mon. I can barely keep my eyes open. Skip to the end!”

Grumbling, Morn beckoned Quark closer. 

“Okay...” Quark nodded, focusing this time. “You have it on good word that… Odo’s coming back to the station?! _Now_?”

The glass fell out of Quark’s hands and smashed onto the floor, shattering so loudly that Morn nearly toppled from his barstool. Quark instinctively reached out to steady him.

“Sorry about that,” Quark said in a distant voice. “I’ll get Broik to clean it up tomorrow.”

Morn nodded. He slowly lifted himself out of his seat.

The movement jolted Quark to action. He hastily set down his polishing cloth on the counter, almost dropping it before slamming it down, then paused to collect himself, staring at nothing.

All the glasses in the bar could've crashed onto the floor and Quark wouldn't have noticed. He was lost in thought, straining to remember all the things he ever planned to do if Odo returned to the station.

 _When_ Odo returned to the station.

His lobes felt warm.

The traitorously familiar feeling spread throughout his face and snapped Quark back to attention.

He clapped Morn on the shoulder.

“Hey, Morn - lock the doors behind you, will ya? I just remembered - and you’re going to think this is a _hilarious_ coincidence, believe me - there’s a special shipment in Cargo Bay Three that I have to personally attend to. Right now. Whew! Would’ve completely slipped my mind if it weren’t for you.”

Quark looked Morn in the eyes. He smiled. “Thanks for that.”

“Anyway,” Quark continued, already embarrassed at his moment of open sincerity, “I’d better go. Can’t miss that delivery. ‘Night, Morn!”

And he ran out of the bar so quickly that he barely heard Morn wish him good luck.

 

* * *

 

Kira had a quizzical look on her face when Quark suddenly appeared, breathing hard, outside of the cargo bay doors.

“Quark?” Kira stepped aside and watched him stumble through the doorway. “What are you doing here?”

“Odo’s coming back and you _didn’t tell me_?”

“How did you - _Morn_ ,” Kira sighed. “It was supposed to be a surprise, Quark.”

“A surprise?” Quark gasped out. His sides hurt so badly from the unanticipated exercise. Why did he run all the way from the turbolift. Why did he ever do anything. “Excuse me, Colonel, I need to sit down.”

“You should,” Kira replied. She couldn’t help but grin. “You really should.”

“What?” Quark lay down on the floor, too exhausted to fully catch Kira’s amusement. “Why?”

“I - you know what, never mind. You’ll see.”

“I will?” Quark closed his eyes. The floor had never felt so comfortable before. “That’s great, Colonel… that’s great…”

“Don’t worry, Quark.” Kira knelt down next to him on the floor. “Odo’s not docked yet. I just got an update that he’ll be here in a few more minutes.”

He'd reply to her in a minute, after he finished investigating how comfortable the floor was...

Kira reached out to shake his shoulder.

“Quark?”

But he was already falling asleep.

 

* * *

 

Quark woke up in his quarters, alone, as per usual.

It wouldn’t have bothered him so much if he hadn’t actually expected to see Odo when he opened his eyes again.

Quark stared at the ceiling as he took stock of his disappointment. His Odo dreams were certainly going downhill if Odo didn't even bother appearing in them anymore. Which was just _so_ typical of the man, honestly. Leave it to dream-Odo to be just as contrary as the real version.

Maybe it was all for the best. The more he got used to never seeing Odo again, the better.

Yet a slight twinge of hope flourished as he recalled the Colonel’s expression. He had _never_ seen Kira look like that before. So it couldn’t have been a dream, right?

Was that how dreams worked?

Quark sat up.

“Computer,” Quark called out from his bed. “Locate Odo.”

 _“Constable Odo is not on the station._ ”

Quark flopped back down onto the bed. He wondered when he would stop trying to ask.

 

* * *

 

Nevertheless, Quark strode into the bar that morning feeling like his luck was about to change.

He glanced around to assess how things were going. Broik had done a competent job of starting the first shift. The floor was spotless and most of the seats were filled - there was even someone sitting next to Morn already. A Bajoran security officer, going by the dull beige uniform and slicked back hair.

Strange, no earring...

As Quark walked closer, it struck him that the ears seemed _unfinished_ somehow.

His heart started pounding and he nearly tripped over himself and any passersby foolish enough to be in his way as he sped towards -

“ _Odo_?” Quark squeaked. He coughed, deepened his voice. “I mean, Odo? You’re back?”

Time slowed to a crawl as Quark waited for Morn’s seatmate to turn around and face him. The vague nose, the smooth face - it all seemed sharpened somehow, but there was no mistaking it. And even though the blood thundered in Quark’s ears, he could still distinguish an old, familiar rustle of Changeling liquid sloshing inside of itself.

“Quark!” Odo’s eyes lit up upon recognizing him.

Before Quark could say another word, Odo clambered off the barstool and swept him up in a fierce embrace.

Speechless, Quark tightened his arms around Odo in return. He buried his face in Odo’s chest - no combadge to avoid bumping into, just a slightly scratchy semblance of Bajoran uniform fabric. No wonder the computer couldn’t tell him Odo was on the station. Didn’t matter. For the first time in ages, he was close enough to hear the gentle waves of Odo’s fluidal anatomy settle and subside. When he inhaled, all he could smell was Odo’s light, faintly waterlike scent. It reminded him of the ground in Ferenginar after a summer rain. Quark hated getting sentimental, but at that very moment, Odo felt like _home_.

He was dimly aware of Odo murmuring his name repeatedly. He was much more aware of Odo’s hands lazily traveling down to rest near the small of his back.

“Quark?”

“Yeah?” Quark glanced back up at Odo.

“Quark,” Odo said again, face unreadable as always, and Quark decided it was time to start panicking.

“Odo, are you okay? You sound like you’re malfunctioning.” Quark tried to laugh but emitted more of a strangled sob instead. “Did you forget how to speak on that stupid homeworld of yours? _Did they take that away from you_?”

“Quark -”

“Look, Odo, if you need to learn how to speak again, Dr. Bashir’s still on the station and we’ll -”

“Quark! Quark, I’m fine,” Odo laughed, drawing him close. “I missed saying your name.”

“You - what?” Quark blinked.

“I promise I remember how to say other words,” Odo said. His hands exerted a steady, gentle pressure on the Ferengi’s back. “Sorry I worried you.”

“Sorry?” Quark echoed.

Odo studied his face carefully, as if investigating it for clues.

“Sorry,” Odo repeated, sounding more hesitant than apologetic. “Words are… inadequate.” His face hovered near Quark’s for a moment and Quark’s mouth went dry.

With a slight stoop, Odo pressed their noses together. The foreign smoothness of Odo’s nose nuzzling his own made Quark’s breath hitch. He closed his eyes and waited for it to turn into something more.

It didn’t.

"Oh," Quark said dumbly as he opened his eyes again.

He watched Odo lean away slightly, unblinking and unreadable in his scrutiny. Yet Odo’s arms were still around him, and Quark wasn’t sure what that meant. 

Was it a joke? The nuzzle seemed to be leading to something more, until it didn’t.

But why would Odo nuzzle him as a joke?

Could he possibly be... winning?

If only he knew what Odo was thinking -

“You’re smaller than I remembered,” Odo stated matter-of-factly. 

Quark deflated instantly. The observation was accurate, but not exactly what he wanted to talk about. "Haven't been eating as much without Rom around to nag me."

"And you've got a new wrinkle underneath your left eye."

"What? I do _not_ ," Quark protested. "You're joking."

"I'm not. It's right here." Odo reached up to brush his thumb along Quark's cheekbone, and Quark's breath hitched again. "You're getting older."

"Thanks," Quark said, deflating even further. "I had no idea."

"It was just an observation, Quark." Odo smiled. He looked almost sad as he lowered his hand. "I should've returned earlier."

There was something about the way Odo gazed at him that made Quark refrain from replying,  _Yeah, you should've._

"Well, you're here now," Quark said. "So don't worry about it. And since when did you start paying attention to my face?"

Without a single note of sarcasm, Odo replied, "I've always paid attention to your face, Quark."

Heat spread throughout Quark's cheeks and traveled up his lobes in a rapid blush.

There was no way Odo could've _possibly_ meant anything by that. It was nothing more than a simple observation.

Right?

Then, out of the corner of his eye, Quark caught Morn leaning over to watch them with great interest. Startled, Quark looked around at the rest of the bar...

...only to see everyone staring at him and Odo. Some looked merely curious, while others smiled with suspiciously knowledgeable expressions. The murmurs were too numerous for Quark to pick out individual dialogue, but he got the general gist.

Despite wearing multiple layers from neck to toe, Quark felt incredibly exposed.

“Uh, Odo?” Quark turned back to face Odo, who kept gazing at him as if nobody else in the bar existed. How could Odo remain so oblivious? “Everyone’s looking at us.”

“Are they, now?” Odo sounded completely unconcerned.

“Let’s go talk somewhere a little more private.” Quark glanced up. “The tables on the upper level are empty.”

Odo grunted permissively.

Neither made a move to disengage. Morn continued to look at them with great interest.

Something about Odo’s silent gaze felt off to Quark, despite its familiar intensity.

(He had teased Odo about his intense gaze before, of course. Odo was such a prude - how could he resist? “ _Careful, Constable - you might give someone the wrong impression someday…”_ )

There was definitely something different about the way Odo looked at him now. Something softer at the edges.

Quark supposed being in the Link for so long had mellowed him out, reservations melting away, just as Odo's body melted back into that collective ocean of goo…

After all, Odo _did_ give him a hug earlier. The gesture was downright uninhibited from someone so historically uptight. And Quark didn’t even have to ask for it.

He waited to see if Odo might lean closer. Bring their faces together. Part Quark’s lips with his own.  

...Or do anything besides stand there and gaze at him.

No such luck.

Quark sighed. He might end up waiting forever at this rate.

“Odo?”

“Mm-hmm?”

“You’re going to have to let go of me if we’re going to get anywhere.”

Reluctant as he was to do so, Quark began extricating himself from Odo’s arms.

“Hm?”  Odo made an upset noise, sounding so vulnerable and hurt that Quark felt guilty somehow.

He was just about to apologize (for what, he had no idea), when Odo grabbed for his hand and interlaced their fingers together.

Quark stared at their clasped hands, then back at Odo - who looked at peace, as if holding Quark’s hand was the most natural and right thing that any person could do.

“...Okay, that’s not exactly letting go,” Quark said, flustered and relieved at Odo’s reluctance to stop touching him. “But we can make it work.”

Odo smiled. He gave Quark’s hand a gentle squeeze.

It was a perfectly innocent gesture. It probably didn’t mean anything. And it still sent the blood rushing to Quark’s lobes anyway.

“Well, don’t just _stand_ there,” Quark said, and he hurriedly pulled Odo towards the staircase, away from the rising tide of gossip from all his beloved terrible patrons.

 

* * *

 

They ascended the stairs in silence, Quark leading Odo by the hand.

As they walked, Quark struggled to think of what to say next. He wasn’t used to remaining silent for so long, but he also wasn’t used to anyone holding his hand.

Wrists, sure. Neck, more often than he preferred. The upper arm, countless times.

Rarely, if ever, did anyone simply hold his hand.

It didn’t feel bad, just strange. A foreign feeling. Quark supposed that was partly because…  it was Odo’s hand. Cool to the touch, bloodless and steady in temperature, and smoother than any humanoid’s could ever be. The idea of a hand, made real, grasping his own.

Other things felt more real now. Different futures seemed possible. Probability trees branched out and unfurled before Quark, all because of the hand he was holding.

He wished he had an odds table for this situation. Or one of those handy Orbs of the Prophets. Or simply just the power to read Odo’s mind.

Something, anything to help him navigate this uncharted territory.

_Computer, calculate the odds that a Changeling holding a Ferengi's hand isn't a purely platonic gesture or a symptom of some engineered disease..._

He was just about to step onto the upper level floor when a thought occurred to him.

Did holding hands actually _mean_ anything to Odo? Was it merely some kind of primal Changeling reflex because Odo didn’t have anyone to link with? The Kira door had closed some time ago, so did Odo resign himself to Quark as better than nothing, but available?

Lost in thought, Quark came to a standstill at the top of the stairs.

“You’ve stopped,” Odo observed, and he dutifully also came to a stop behind Quark, a few steps below. “Something wrong, Quark?”

“No, nothing.”

“Quark…”

There was no one else on the balcony level. Quark decided he might as well place his bet.

“Odo, I’m going to ask you a question and I’m not sure if I’m ready to hear the answer.”

“All right,” Odo said hesitantly. “Ask.”

_Time to roll the dice._

“...Why are you holding my hand?”

Odo slowly rubbed circles on Quark’s hand with his thumb before he spoke again, quietly, as if daring Quark not to hear him. “Solids hold each other’s hands when they are fond of each other.”

Quark whipped his head around to look at Odo, half afraid Odo would take it back.

Framed by the winding staircase, Odo looked like a soldier at attention, patiently awaiting instructions. The warm lights of the bar illuminated Odo’s face, calm and sincere and serenely focused on Quark. It was gold-pressed latinum and the Divine Treasury all at once.

“Quark?” Odo tilted his head. “Did you hear me?”

“You’re fond of me.” Quark wanted to turn it into a question. He had so many questions for Odo, threatening to spill out all at once, and all he could say, with varying emphasis, was: “You’re… _fond_ of me. _You_ are fond of _me._ ”

“Yes, that is correct.” Odo had that lilt in his voice that always crept in when he was in the process of stringing one thought to another. “I thought the Ferengi nose nuzzle would help convey that earlier, but perhaps I was mistaken.”

Quark sat down hard on the top step. Odo crouched down to look at him.

“Quark.” Odo sounded concerned.  

“What?”

“You’re crying.”

“No I’m not,” Quark said quickly, using his free hand to rub at the corners of his eyes. “I’ve just got something in my eye. Broik must’ve missed a spot, _obviously_. I’ll have to deduct his wages for the week.”

Odo opened his mouth as if he were about to debate the likelihood of a stray dust mote bothering Quark at that precise moment, then changed his mind and nodded instead.

“Obviously,” Odo agreed, smiling slightly. He squeezed Quark’s hand. “Move over.” He climbed the stairs to sit next to Quark on the top step.

They sat in silence, leaning against each other, until Quark spoke up.

“So you’re fond of me,” said Quark with a self-satisfied grin. “You won’t kiss me, but you’re fond of me.”

Odo used his free hand to gently turn Quark’s head around to face him. “I never said I wouldn’t kiss you.”

Quark’s eyes widened. “Wh-”

And with that, Odo took the opportunity to dive in and kiss him.

A surprised noise escaped into the air, and Quark couldn't quite place it at first until he realized it had to have come from him. Odo was a quiet kisser, almost disconcertingly so, settling a question that Quark had been wondering for years. The newfound knowledge made Quark whimper softly into Odo's mouth, and his mind went blissfully blank at the realization that _Odo was kissing him_.

It was perfect. A little rough, a little sloppy, and completely, utterly perfect.

Admittedly, a little bit of oo-mox would’ve been nice. But Quark could wait. He waited for over ten years for this.

When they broke apart, the first thing Quark could think of saying was: “Finally!”

“What do you mean?” Odo asked, not waiting for a reply before he kissed Quark again, wrapping an arm around Quark’s back to pull their bodies flush together. He chuckled when Quark gently pushed his face away so they could speak.

“Uh, what I _mean_ is that I’ve been wanting you to kiss me since we first met.”

“Hmm. That early?” Another kiss, as if Odo was trying to make up for over a decade of suppressed kisses.

Almost in spite of himself, Quark broke away to confirm, somewhat testily, “ _Yes_ , that early. You didn’t know?”

Odo paused at Quark’s tone, looking caught. “I thought you were being... indiscriminately nice to me. Like you were with everyone. Flirtatious. Lecherous, even.”

“Well, that’s just good customer service.” Quark felt a strange twisting in the pit of his stomach. Over ten years - what could’ve been! “Odo, I can’t believe you didn’t know...”

“More fool me,” Odo said thoughtfully. “Sorry. I really had no idea.” He kissed Quark with a nuzzle this time. “Your regard for me did not seem… different than for anyone else.”

“Really.” Quark held a hand to Odo’s lips, determined to talk this through. “Wow, okay. Where do I even begin? I asked you to dinner all those times -”

“I don’t eat," Odo interrupted, as if that would explain everything. 

“It wouldn’t have mattered!" Quark laughed at how pitiful that sounded, wanting to get a meal with a Changeling who could never eat. "I just wanted to spend more _time_ with you, I -"

“Quark?” Odo squeezed his hand again, helplessly, looking lost in the face of Quark’s distress. “Can we -”

But Quark couldn’t let this go, not yet. “You didn’t think I cared about you even after I saved our lives? On that profit-forsaken _freezing_ mountain planet?”

“Well. After that… incident, I didn’t really know what to think.”

Quark stared at him, a million responses piling up on the tip of his tongue. He couldn’t decide which to say first, and thus said nothing. But it never occurred to him to let go of Odo’s hand, and this seemed to reassure the Changeling.

“Quark?” Odo sounded thoughtful again.

“Yeah?”

“I am pleased you care. About me. I wasn’t sure what would happen when I returned.”

“I wasn’t sure either,” Quark admitted. “So... what made you come back?”

 

* * *

 

On the Changeling homeworld, on a tiny island in the middle of the Great Link, a mass slowly separated itself from the ocean of its people, and became Odo.

He stepped onto the island, then sat down. Sitting was a foreign sensation at first, but it felt comforting. He drew his legs together and rested his arms on his knees, mimicking one of the first gestures he remembered witnessing in Dr. Mora Pol’s lab, when Dr. Mora hadn’t thought anyone was watching him, sitting on the floor, hugging his knees to his chest.

Odo found this position comforting as well. He sat there for a time, staring out at the rest of the Great Link, arms on his knees.

After a while, another mass separated itself from the Link and took on the shape of the Changeling he had always known as the female Founder.

Odo watched her sit down next to him.

“It’s you?” he commented, half-asking, half-stating. His voice was quiet at first, as he got used to forming lungs and the other necessary accompaniments for speech again.

“In a sense. I have taken on the form of the one you knew as the female Founder. But upon reflection, for this conversation, I will take on a… more comforting form instead.”

“Oh?” Odo waited to see what she meant.

The female Founder concentrated, then changed into -

“ _Worf?_ ” Odo’s eyes widened. “Why would you - what is the meaning of this?”

Worf-Changeling looked at him, and said in Worf’s voice: “Sometimes solids have a need to talk to other solids.”

“You know very well that neither of us are solids.” Odo frowned. “You could just link with me. It’s so much more precise.”

“Odo, you are unique among Changelings, and we must treat you as such. Especially when the precision of linking will not suffice."

He couldn't comprehend why. "And talking will?"

"From what we have observed, sometimes solids need to say things aloud to acknowledge the reality behind the words.”

“All right,” said Odo, recalling the vibrations necessary to sound skeptical. “What do you need to say aloud?”

“It is not so much a need of ours as a need of yours.”

“And that need is…?”

Worf-Changeling paused to consider his words. “Odo, you need to return to Deep Space Nine.”

Odo grunted. “Very well. As an ambassador? A representative of our people?”

Worf-Changeling smiled, and Odo felt unnerved. Partially because Worf rarely smiled, and partially because it looked so perfectly like the solid he used to know. “We honestly do not care if you wish to return in an official capacity as a representative or not. But you need to return for Quark.”

It was the first time Odo had heard Quark’s name ever since he returned to the Great Link.

A rush of emotion, wordless and immense, filled his consciousness.

“What are you talking about?” Odo asked gruffly.

Worf-Changeling looked at him in silence, then reached out and patted Odo on the shoulder.

“That was a gesture meant to comfort you.”

“I don’t need comforting!” Odo barked, almost shocking himself with how much his voice increased in volume. At least the lungs were in good order.

“Odo.” Worf-Changeling’s imitation of the Klingon’s clipped, formal voice was hauntingly exact. “Ever since your return, ever since the great healing, the _entire_ Great Link has shared your memories of that little Ferengi criminal. Your many, _many_ memories."

"They're not that -"

"An extraordinary amount," Worf-Changeling continued. "And while we can tolerate the… infusion of your years of thinking about his every move -"

"It was my job," Odo interrupted. 

"It was your life," Worf-Changeling corrected gently. "Which we accept. But we are _not_  prepared to deal with the regret that is almost certain to occur if you do not return to the Alpha Quadrant and spend his remaining years with him."

"Quark's remaining years...?"

"Your lifetime will go on for centuries," said Worf-Changeling, "but we cannot say the same for his. Despite our superior research, we have yet to determine the precise length of an average Ferengi's lifespan. The one known as Zek, for example, has greatly exceeded our intelligence’s expectations. What we can confirm, however, is that it is absolutely far shorter than a Changeling’s lifetime.”

Words completely failed Odo as he tried to piece together the meaning of what Worf-Changeling was saying.

“We digress,” Worf-Changeling realized. “The fact of the matter is, you can always return home to the Link. All we have is time. The Ferengi named Quark does not.”

Odo stood up, enraged. “Are you telling me Quark’s _dying?_ And you didn’t tell me sooner? How fast can we get a ship - ”

“Odo! Quark is not dying at the present.” Worf-Changeling also stood up. “Of course he will die, eventually. Long before you, as all your solid friends must. But we are speaking in relative terms, and our intelligence has confirmed that he is alive.”

“Oh. Good. Quark is alive,” said Odo with relief.

“You are very rigid,” Worf-Changeling observed.

Odo hadn’t even been aware he was tense. He relaxed himself.

Worf-Changeling patted him on the shoulder again, then quickly removed his hand upon Odo’s stiff glare. “Do you realize? You must. The minute you thought something was wrong with him, you wanted to go to him.”

Odo laughed. “I suppose I did. All right, then. How do we get back to Deep Space Nine?”

“There will be no we, Odo. Only you. However, we can provide assistance in the form of a ship and a Vorta pilot. A Yelgrun can help you navigate through the wormhole back to the Alpha Quadrant.”

“But…” Odo struggled to find the words. “Departing the Great Link… alone? Again?”

“You won’t be alone,” Worf-Changeling said. “You’ll be with your solid.”

“My solid.” Odo contemplated the concept. Somehow he suspected Quark would not tolerate such a label. The thought made him smile. 

“It’s what you’ve always thought, even if you could not realize it on your own. Being in the Great Link has a tendency to accelerate such enlightenment." Without a single change to its dry, factual tone, Worf-Changeling added, "You are welcome."

Curious, Odo eyed the other Changeling. There was something he couldn't quite determine. He ventured a guess. "Did you have… a solid? That you cared about?”

Worf-Changeling seemed to wobble - to temporarily blur out of shape, before re-forming into Worf. “Once upon a time. A long time ago. An exception we have never seen the likes of again. The memories… are bittersweet.”

“Why don’t I have these memories?”

“Oh, Odo.” Worf-Changeling sounded small and quiet. “Even when we were in judgment of you, we did not dare punish you with the pain of knowing such a loss. We swore never to feel that way again. To bury the feeling as deep as it could go. You have helped it resurface.”

Something about the clear grief made Odo reach out his hand. “Link with me. Please. I want to know.”

“Odo.” Worf-Changeling gently pushed Odo’s hand away, without linking. “Quark is your solid. Troublesome as he is, he is yours. Please go to him. And in time, when you are ready, when you understand - we may share.”

“But if it’s so painful… is it worth it?”

Worf-Changeling wobbled again. “It’s worth every second.”

They looked at each other in silence as the waves of the Great Link shimmered around them.

The other Changeling was the first to turn away. “We’ll begin the arrangements for your departure.”

 

* * *

 

“Quark?”

“What?”

“You’re crying again.”

“You don’t have to point it out every time, Odo.” He wiped away at his eyes. The balcony level was still empty, which was good. Quark knew he wasn’t a pretty crier and he had a reputation to maintain. “It’s a perfectly normal humanoid reaction.”

“Indeed,” Odo replied, a hint of a laugh coloring his voice. “But I’d rather _not_ make you cry, Quark.”

“Crying’s not always a bad thing.”

“Even so.”

“Especially if there’s a good reason for it.”

“Hm.” Odo tightened the arm he had wrapped around Quark’s back. “And what reason is that?”

Quark couldn’t suppress a besotted grin. “You’re so madly in love with me that your people kicked you off your home planet.”

"Correct," Odo replied, as if it had always been a fact, and Quark's heart leaped higher than the Tower of Commerce.

“So it’s true!”

“Of course it is.” Odo eyed him, a small smile on his face. "Did you want it written all over my back? Rather crude form of communication, but if you need help comprehending the notion -"

He made a pleased noise when Quark kissed him, banging their mouths together in an impulsive move that left Quark sprawled all over Odo's lap.

“Think I comprehend it just fine,” Quark said breathlessly.

Odo smiled. He rubbed Quark’s back in a lazily affectionate manner. “Glad to hear it.”

“But, um.” Something still bothered Quark, and he couldn’t help but ask, “What about Kira?”

Odo tilted his head. A slight suspicion entered his voice. “What about Nerys?”

“Just wondering. Did the Great Link help you realize anything about her, too?”

"Yes." Odo paused for a moment. "I did love her. And in a way, I always will - as a friend."

Quark blinked. "As a friend?"

"Yes, Quark." Odo gazed off into the distance, at some daydream Quark couldn't see. "I used to think that friendship and love were incompatible. And that I couldn't possibly be friends with Nerys if I loved her so much. How could something so strong be defined as mere friendship?"

More than ever, Quark wished Jadzia were still alive. It was the prime topic for a quintessentially Jadzian rant. She certainly would have had some choice words to say about the nature of friendship and love, plus a few bawdy jokes to lighten the mood.

And Quark badly needed something to lighten the mood, to distract him from the way his stomach still twisted in jealousy after all these years.

Though it did help somewhat that Odo kept an arm around him, fingertips gently pressing into his waist. 

Odo sounded thoughtful as he continued speaking. "I had made my choice, and it seemed correct. I was so certain Nerys fit the description of what I was seeking. She peerlessly matched so many of the Bajoran ideals that I had absorbed and adopted as my own. All those ideals, all those parameters fulfilled. So I loved her for what she was to me." He smiled. "But I hadn't taken anything else into account."

"Like what?" Quark asked softly.

"Like you." Odo leaned his head against Quark's, chuckling gently. "You've never easily fit into the parameters of my life, Quark. And over time, those parameters changed their shape to fit around you, instead. And I've changed, as well. You've transformed my entire life."

_Blessed Exchequer._

Quark had never bet on that possibility.

Oh sure, he had missed the man, and he often told himself that Odo missed him as well - all his brilliant little schemes, the way their bickering added variety to the days - but it hadn't occurred to Quark that he could've affected Odo so fundamentally.

"The Link helped you realize all that?" Quark asked in a daze.

"Yes. All that and more. My love for Nerys was but one dimension of the totality of emotion I could experience."

"And I'm part of that totality now."

"Yes. For quite some time, in fact."

Quark swallowed hard. "Would you have returned to the station on your own? Without any gooey prompting?"

A wry smile. "What do you mean?"

"If your fellow Changelings hadn't told you to leave, would you?"

“Quark.” Odo rested his forehead against the Ferengi’s, and for a brief moment, Quark felt a flash of - something. A warm, sweet glow. “I thought I would lose myself forever in the Great Link. I had planned for it. My goodbyes were meant to be final.” At Quark’s stricken expression, Odo quickly added, “Not to inflate your already excessive ego further, but my memories of you, the bond we have - that anchored me to myself. And once I embraced those feelings, well. I wanted to return. So yes, Quark, I would've left the Link even if they hadn't encouraged me to do so."

"But I thought you said it was paradise."

"It wasn't everything I wanted." And Odo gave him a significant look, as if Quark were a paradise himself.

"So you're saying, _I'm_..."

Odo nodded.

"Oh." Quark blinked away tears again.

It was worse than the time Morn handed him a glass of pure liquid latinum. 

“Let’s go back to my quarters,” Quark said, standing up hastily, rubbing at his eyes again, voice already breaking.

 

* * *

 

Something about the sight of Odo walking through his doorway made Quark grin like a fool.

It was a nice change, welcoming him in as a guest. Much nicer than all those times Odo had entered his quarters uninvited, barking questions about his involvement in misunderstood business ventures or other alleged crimes.

Those previous visits tended to end in one of two equally unsatisfying outcomes: Odo pulling him away for further investigation elsewhere, or abandoning him to move on to the next item of business.

Sometimes they might sneak in a genuine moment of socialization, letting their guards down just enough to slip into something more comfortable, almost friendly, without ever quite going beyond a teasing glimpse of a better relationship. And Quark’s pulse would race until Odo inevitably walked back out the door again.

He never did stop feeling disappointed by those departures. At least whenever Odo stopped by the bar, Quark always had something else to do afterwards - mixing drinks, listening to Morn, being as gracious a host as possible. But in his quarters, whenever Odo dismissed Quark as soon as he stopped being useful enough, he was just another item to tick off the Constable’s to-do list.

 _Guess I’m at the top of the to-do list now,_ Quark thought.

He laughed to himself.

“What is it?” Odo asked, tilting his head. His fingertips pressed gently into Quark’s knuckles.

“Nothing,” Quark told him. He tugged Odo towards the bedroom. “C’mon.”

 

* * *

 

They sat side by side on the edge of the bed, looking intently at the clasp of Quark’s jacket, which remained stubbornly locked. 

Quark’s hands shook as he fumbled with the intricate metal clasp that gathered his lapels together, continuously missing the precise indentation required to trigger its release.

“Need any help?” Odo asked, resting his chin on Quark’s shoulder. The low rumble of his voice sent a pleasant shiver down Quark’s spine. “You’ve been trying to undo that for the past forty-five seconds.”

“Aren’t _ you _ the handsome timepiece.” Quark made a frustrated sound as his fingers missed the indentation again, and Odo rubbed his back in consolation. “I’m fine, I just need to concentrate.”

It had to be something wrong with the mechanism, because he couldn’t possibly be nervous about removing his clothes in front of Odo. Quark had taught himself long ago to suppress the old Ferengi beliefs that scorned male nudity for being too fe-male and weak. After all, most people didn’t care, and he’d mostly gotten the better of his body’s instincts for tensing up whenever he stripped off a layer. Besides, he wouldn’t be exposing any additional skin right away...

“I could cut it off for you, if you’d like.” 

The liquid sound of shapeshifting made Quark glance up, only to see Odo holding a pair of simulated tailoring shears in his hand. The blades looked ominously sharp. 

“What? No!” 

The volume of Quark’s screech made Odo re-absorb the shears back into his hand immediately.

“It was just a suggestion,” Odo said mildly. 

“And this is just a  _ very  _ expensive jacket.” Quark gladly began to rattle off features - it soothed his nerves. “Made to measure, five internal pockets -”

“I always  _ did  _ wonder how you could hide so many things on your person -”

“High-performance Tarkalean wool blend, water-resistant embroidery -”

Odo snorted. “It doesn’t rain on the station, Quark.”

“It does on Ferenginar, and that’s the best place to show off a Garak original.”

The mention of the former tailor made Odo examine the jacket more closely. “Garak made this?” 

“Yep. And it would’ve cost thrice as much from a Ferengi tailor, let me tell you.”

“I see.” Odo idly fingered a sleeve. “I ran into the station’s new tailor while you were asleep. Nice fellow. Seems competent enough. Couldn’t you ask him to repair it later?”

“Like he’d know how to handle a vintage Tholian closure? Please. Everything he makes is so  _ utilitarian. _ ” 

Quark paused to shudder at the memory of a simple contemporary jumpsuit in the shop’s display. One color for the entire unstructured garment. Even the Bajoran security uniforms had a little more panache.

“No,” Quark continued, “I’ll wait for Garak to take a look at it next time he’s here.”

“Does he visit often?” 

“Not really, but he finds his way back every now and again. The long-distance thing’s gotta be rough on him.”

Odo gave him an odd look. “Long-distance. With… Dr. Bashir?” 

“The one and only. Didn’t you know? I always thought it was an open secret.”

Quark would have to check with Dr. Bashir about Garak’s next visit to the station, even though the good doctor had repeatedly told Quark that Garak’s new role in the Cardassian government meant he had other priorities besides providing sartorial repairs, and no, he did not agree that Garak could be so bored by the monotony of bureaucracy that he’d welcome the opportunity to relax with some simple tailoring. 

(But Dr. Bashir didn’t know that Garak had a soft spot for his most fussy customer, often citing Quark’s complex requests as one of the few things he might not have completely loathed about being in exile. Ferengi designs had a way of presenting special challenges that most tailoring orders didn’t...)

“Hmm.” Odo pulled Quark closer, then reached up and brushed Quark’s hand away from the clasp.

Quark squirmed in the crook of Odo’s arm, simultaneously pleased and confused. “What are you doing?”

“Helping you.” Odo frowned in concentration. He shifted his hand to investigate the clasp more thoroughly, slim tendrils of goo extending to prod the metal crevices. “You’re clearly not making any progress on your own.”

“Be careful,” Quark whined. “It’s delicate.”

“Is it, now?” A suggestive tone roughened Odo’s voice. “You and your delicate clothing.”

The implications sent Quark’s imagination into overdrive, conjuring visions of Odo wrestling him down onto the bed and kissing away his protests, leaving him disheveled with hands tugging down his waistband, rumpling his shirt and crushing the fabric against his skin...

A series of small clicks interrupted the silence. 

“There.” Odo glanced up from the opened clasp with a smile. His hand resumed its normal appearance as he set it down.

“Thanks,” Quark said, still in a bit of a daze. He slowly shrugged himself out of his jacket. “That’s a handy trick. You’d have made a killing as a lockpicker.”

Odo huffed a dry laugh. “Of course you’d think so.”

“You didn’t, did you?”

“Did what?”

“Go around picking locks with your shapeshifting powers.”

Odo sighed. “No, Quark. Why would you ever think that?”

“It’s what I would’ve done if I were a Changeling.” 

A strange expression overcame Odo’s face at that remark. “Quark, you know I wouldn’t abuse my abilities like that.”

“I know, I know. Just messing with you.” Quark patted Odo’s chest, then paused. He raised a browridge. 

“What?” Odo asked.

He raised both browridges. “Did you shapeshift some muscles just now?”

“I haven’t the faintest idea what you’re talking about.”

Quark placed a hand on Odo’s stomach, blushing slightly at the suggestion of hardened abdominals underneath the uniform.  “So you’re saying these have always been there?” 

Odo affected an innocent expression. “It has been some time since I’ve resumed this form. There is a possibility it might not be precisely identical to its previous iteration."

He laid a hand on top of Quark’s, pressing it even closer to his front, until there was no doubt of what Quark was feeling. 

“You don’t mind, do you?”

“Not at all,” Quark replied. His face grew warmer. He bit his lip. “But, uh. Let me make sure.”

He slowly ran his hand along Odo’s front. There was something oddly familiar about the sensation.

And then Quark’s tactile memory kicked in.

“Odo.”

“Yes?”

“Did you rent a holosuite while I was asleep?”

“No, why?”

“Because this feels suspiciously similar to the promotional holo-illustration for  _ Kai of Scoundrels _ , which I know for a fact is on the latest bestseller list from Bajor.” Quark glanced up at Odo’s carefully neutral expression. “I also happen to know that Morn was the last person to reserve the isolinear rod containing the bestseller previews…”

Odo nodded. “Indeed. Surprisingly generous, Morn, when he isn’t drinking your stock away.”

“Generous…?” Quark’s eyes widened with understanding. “He gave you a holosuite reservation?”

“Morn told me to consider it a welcome-back present. It would have been rude to reject such a gift.”

“Oh, of course.” Quark grinned. “Wouldn’t want to be rude.”

“And, naturally, I was curious about the latest literary developments that had occurred in my absence...”

“Naturally,” Quark said. Another thought occurred to him. “Hey, Odo?”

“Yes, Quark?”

“I’m impressed, really, but, uh.” Quark ran the back of his knuckles down Odo’s rippled chest, somewhat regretting what he was about to say, but knowing he ought to say it: “You don’t  _ have  _ to be this impressive.”

Odo looked somewhat deflated. “Oh. I see.”

Quark briefly considered asking if Kira had wanted - no, obviously she hadn’t, not if she was with Ro - or was that part of it? Thinking you wanted a certain ideal at first, and then discovering you wanted something else instead?

Odo glanced down, reassessing. “I was under the impression that such a figure would be more attractive.”

“No - I mean, yes, it  _ is _ , but I’m plenty attracted to you already,” Quark said in a rush. “I don’t need any more convincing, believe me.”

“Hmph. Well.” Odo smiled. He smoothed out the ripples, until his uniform front returned to its customary appearance, though Quark suspected it was still a touch more structured than before. “I suppose you don’t need me to demonstrate my strength by ripping open your shirt, then.”

Quark made a face. “Definitely not. All my shirts are taken in just right. Don’t make me go to the hu-mon tailor before I have to, Odo.”

“I won’t. But, just to clarify, you  _ wouldn’t _ want to be whisked away to a secluded moonlit grove, where we could make love underneath a bed of stars?”

Quark rolled his eyes. “And be outside after dark? I’m not one of your erotica heroines, Odo.”

Odo chuckled. “Rest assured, I won’t be confusing you with the protagonist of _ Kai of Scoundrels _ anytime soon, Quark.” 

They both paused for a moment, contemplating the kinds of scenes such a concept might entail. 

Adopting a deadly serious expression, Odo rested a hand on Quark’s lower back. “But if you  _ did _ want, for example, to let me tear away the garments from your heaving chest…”

“And throw me over the nearest item of furniture?” Quark added helpfully. “I’d be tempted if we weren’t already on a bed.”

“Mm-hmm.”

“And these were expensive, Odo.”

“Mm. And you need skilled hands to remove them.” Odo leaned close, smiling. “I’d have to be very careful, wouldn’t I?”

Quark blinked. Maybe the time for words was over.

He reached up to loosen his collar, and Odo’s hand reached up as well.

They were both trembling, which Quark took as a good sign, because maybe Odo was just as nervous as he was - 

And then Odo stopped short, pausing to examine his own hand as if it didn’t belong to him, so Quark stopped to look as well.

Odo’s hand wasn’t just trembling - it was shifting in and out of solidity, flickering from opaque skin to his semi-transparent natural state.

“Quark,” Odo said, somewhat sheepishly, “I realize this is not an opportune time - but I believe I need to regenerate soon.”

Quark exhaled in relief. “Regeneration,” he repeated, heart settling down. “Not a disease. Oh good. That’s great.”

Odo set his hand down. “Quark, don’t worry. I came here directly from the Changeling homeworld. No one had an opportunity to infect me with anything, I’m sure of it.”

“I wasn’t worried.”

“Of course you weren’t.” Odo regarded him for a moment, then leaned in to kiss Quark on the forehead. He lingered for a moment, as if recalling a half-forgotten memory, before pulling away. “Thank you.”

Quark made a soft noise. “Hey, just trying to make sure I don’t catch any Changeling STDs.”

“How considerate.” Odo gave Quark a fond smirk before glancing around the room. “Well. I suppose I’ll replicate a pail of some sort.”

“Got you covered,” Quark told him. “Kira actually gave me your old bucket when she started dating Ro. It’s in the corner.”

“So it is.” Another kiss, then Odo went to retrieve the bucket, his entire form beginning to shake. 

“Figured it’d be worth something someday,” Quark called after him. 

Odo ignored the attempt to undercut the sentiment. “It’s very touching, Quark.” He smiled somewhat ruefully. “I do feel remiss leaving you alone again so soon, though.”

Quark shrugged it off. “Don’t worry about it. You heard me tell Broik I’d be gone for a while, so I might as well take a nap while you’re regenerating.”

Odo’s smile grew wider. “Can’t bear to be awake without me, is that it?” 

“Don’t be ridiculous,” Quark replied. “It’s so we can maximize the potential benefit of our time together.”

“Of course.” 

And Odo kept a close eye on Quark, as if waiting for something.

“What?” Quark asked.

“You sleep in pajamas, correct?”

“Uh-huh...”

“Aren’t you going to change your clothes?”

“I can wait for you to turn back into goo.”

Odo frowned. “I don’t understand. Why would you need to wait?”

Perhaps the Changeling had been away from humanoids for too long. “ _ Privacy _ , Odo. Maybe it’s not important to someone who technically never wears anything, but -”

“But we were just about to have sex.” Odo tilted his head. “Not an optimal activity for keeping your nudity to yourself, I’d imagine.”

“That’s different. And you can have sex without removing your clothes.” Quark squirmed as he recalled half-clothed skirmishes in the dark, fingers placed just so, slipping into uncovered spaces. “It’s… I can’t really explain it. Ferengi men don’t change their clothes in front of other people. I mean, I have, but I didn’t like it.” Quark waved the thought away. “We can talk about it later. It’s not important.”

“It’s important to you, isn’t it?” Odo walked over, vaguely shimmering at the edges. “As a Ferengi.”

“Right.”

Odo placed his hands on Quark’s shoulders. “And not because you’re uncomfortable about undressing in front of me, specifically.”

Quark blinked. “Why would you say that?”

“Because…” Odo paused to search for the appropriate words, frowning slightly in concentration. He gave Quark’s shoulders a gentle squeeze. “I don’t want you to think I’ll expect more than you are willing to permit.”

“Oh. Well. That’s new,” Quark said, unused to the idea. 

Odo looked dismayed, but it might have also been an effect of the impending regeneration. “It shouldn’t be.”

Quark rubbed the back of his neck, abashed. “Anyway, sorry. I’m keeping you from your cycle.”

“No, this was important.” Odo regarded him, smiling slightly. His voice became thicker, filtered through an increasingly unstable throat. “So you really are going to wait to change your clothes?”

Quark nodded. “You understand, right?”

“Yes, Quark.” Odo leaned in to nuzzle his nose. “I’ll respect your boundaries.”

Quark smiled up at him. “Thank you.”

“I’ll see you in a few hours.”

“Count on it.” Quark leaned up to kiss him, and he could feel Odo melt briefly against him, barely holding himself together before solidifying again.

“Quark,” Odo rasped desperately, breaking away, “I have to…”

“It’s okay.” Quark watched Odo glide over to the bucket. “‘Night, Odo. See you when you wake up.”

Odo began transforming, but kept his upper half together just long enough to add, “Quark, I’m not asleep when I’m back in my gelatinous state. And it’s still daytime.”

“I know.” Quark smiled. Odo's inability to resist correcting him soothed him more than he would ever admit. “Good night.”

And with that, Odo finally allowed himself to slip himself into the bucket.

Quark watched the goo settle down into the bucket on his bedroom floor. He watched it for a long while before he got off the bed to change. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> _And tell me, did Venus blow your mind?_  
>  _Was it everything you wanted to find_  
>  _And did you miss me while you were looking for yourself out there?_  
>   
>  **train** // drops of jupiter  
>   
>   
>  \- why worf? the other changelings picked up on how he shared a similar affinity and temperament with odo. the innate need for order, dislike for uninvited visitors, he's a charmer!
> 
> \- odo's not exactly as oblivious as he thinks, but it'll get explained a little more in chapters to come. thanks for reading!


	2. here comes your love, he longs to be near you

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In which Odo is literally the man of Quark's dreams, and a flashback reveals Dukat paid more attention to them than either of them knew.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> M for a lengthy flashback set during the Occupation, with brief allusions to non-con, heavy drinking, and other mature themes courtesy of Gul Dukat. Don't worry, nothing's permanent - better things lie ahead.

Quark sat down at the foot of his bed and dangled his pajama-clad feet over the edge. He swung his feet for a bit, then leaned over until he was looking directly inside Odo’s bucket.

There wasn’t much to see. Not that Quark truly expected to see anything different since the last time he checked, but that was before he dimmed the bedroom lights. Sometimes things changed in the dark.

For all his waiting, the goo inside the bucket remained still and silent, barely visible underneath the residual ambient light.

Quark smiled a little ruefully to himself. Nothing about the formless goo indicated that it was Odo’s natural state. If Quark hadn’t seen Odo shapeshift into the bucket with his own eyes, he wouldn’t have known the goo was Odo at all.

It could’ve been anything, really.

Or anyone.

Occasionally, Quark would dream of some Changeling imposter returning to the station, assuming Odo’s form and trying to infiltrate his life. They weren’t exactly nightmares. Nothing bad ever happened. Whenever Quark woke up from those dreams, heart beating furiously, it wasn’t from fear. Merely the sudden disorientation of realizing that the person he thought he knew, wasn’t that person at all.

Nothing horrid. Just some strange, unsettling dreams.

A small shiver ran through him.

It was harder than it ought to be, sitting alone in his pajamas, staring at a bucket full of Odo in the dark.

Quark waved his hand over the goo, half-hoping the gesture would make something happen.

When nothing did, he cleared his throat and asked, “Odo?”

No response.

Quark set his hand back down by his side.

Well, he had to check, just in case.

He didn’t _really_ expect Odo to suddenly emerge out of regeneration, just because he felt a little lonesome. Or a completely respectable amount of lonesome.

Besides, Odo had to get his rest, just like everyone else.

(Even if everyone else that had shared Quark’s bedroom had actually shared his bed. When he was lucky enough to have them stay the night, anyway.)

For a brief moment, Quark wondered how heavy a bucket full of Odo might be. If he tried to lift it into bed...

Nah. Stupid idea. He hated the cold, and the bucket was icy to the touch. If he wanted to fall asleep next to a hunk of metal, he could have just stayed on the Ferengi freighter all those years ago - curled up on a cheap bunk, dreaming of other things.

Quark sighed.

He flopped backwards onto the bed and stared at the ceiling. The familiar old Cardassian architecture was plain, boring, and strangely soothing. Far more soothing than staring up at the freighter ship’s ceiling had been. Quark supposed that made sense - he had now spent far more years staring up at the station’s ceiling, after all.

It had been ages since Quark last thought about the freighter. He supposed Odo wasn’t the only one who had come a long way.

He also supposed he should count himself lucky - all that way, just for him.

A smile quirked up his lips.

What were the odds?

_The luckiest Ferengi this side of the wormhole._

(By himself in an empty bed, with nothing but pillows and blankets for company.)

_...On balance, anyway._

Quark rolled over onto his side and flung out his arms in front of him, since he had so much room.

His favorite blanket tickled his hands. Fluffy Karemman fleece, the best in the Gamma Quadrant.

(Sometimes he still wondered what life with Hanok would have been like, but the Karemma homeworld never did feel like home.)

Twisting around, Quark pulled the thick blanket out from underneath him and gathered it up in his arms. He shut his eyes and pressed the softness to his face.

It felt comforting. Not nearly as comforting as having someone else in bed with him, but it helped.

He might as well go to sleep.

 

* * *

 

In the blink of an eye, Quark found himself out in the open somewhere, on some unidentified planet, surrounded by a sea of people he didn’t know.

The sky above was clear and monotonously light. The stony ground below was unforgivingly barren.

He had the strangest feeling he had been here before.

A chill wind picked up and swirled around him, making his teeth chatter. Quark glanced down and saw he was wrapped up in a dull blue blanket, hacked into a makeshift poncho. He didn’t remember putting it on.

He turned to the nearest person to ask where he was, just in time to see them walk away.

Rude, but whatever.

Shrugging to himself, Quark turned to the person on his other side, only to see that person walk away as well.

Quark decided he didn’t want their help anyway.

Besides, from what he had glimpsed of the strange people, their faces kept changing. The features shifted from one unrecognizable face to the next. Like they couldn’t make up their minds about their appearances. Ghostlike. Untrustworthy.

He wondered if they were Changelings. Or some other kind of shapeshifter.

Maybe they knew Odo.

Then, as if by magic, Quark saw him in the distance.

The distant figure’s back was turned to him, but the familiarity was unmistakable - ramrod straight posture, tan and beige uniform, immaculately slicked-back hair.

“Odo?"

The figure slowly turned around.

“Odo!”

Quark stood still, caught between disbelief and a hazy sort of awareness, like his head was stuck in a cloud.

Something important was happening, but Quark couldn’t quite place his finger on it, and he was normally so good at placing his fingers on things…

The Changeling opened his mouth and yelled something Quark couldn’t hear.

Quark started shoving his way through the crowd. Odo did the same.

The sight of Odo trying to meet him halfway shocked Quark into a realization.

He was dreaming.

It frightened him to realize he was dreaming, because the more he thought about the fact that he was dreaming, the more tenuous the dream became, and the more desperately Quark wanted to hold onto it.

Holding onto water would have been easier. The crowds started slipping away from Quark’s consciousness, fading out of view. Quark ran faster, feet pounding soundlessly on the ground below, until that too fell away, and he was running on nothing.

The world around him fell away into nothingness, until there was only Odo, standing in the middle of a featureless void.

Quark thought hard about throwing himself into Odo’s arms, until he realized it was already happening, and Odo had caught him in a fierce hug, which felt familiar and strange all at once, anchoring him in place.

Odo was all he could see, which suited Quark just fine. He grinned at the sight of Odo’s face leaning closer to his, and he tilted his own face upwards, instinctively letting his eyes fall shut.

Maybe he could steal a kiss before the dream melted away completely -

 

* * *

 

“It’s about time you woke up,” Odo teased.

Quark opened his eyes. 

The room was still dark, but not as dark as it was before he fell asleep. He could just about see Odo lying next to him in the dimmed light: curled onto his side, propped up on an elbow, knuckles loosely pressed against his temple as he gazed down at Quark. 

"Computer," Quark said drowsily, voice partially muffled by his pillow, "lights at 70 percent."

A warm glow flooded the room. Quark blinked as he readjusted to the light.

There was something a little off about Odo’s features. Were his cheekbones always that pointed? Quark struggled to remember. It bothered him that he wasn’t sure.

(Jadzia had told him about the other Odo on Gaia. Old Changeling, new face. Quark had tried to imagine the face and couldn't. He joked about how he'd likely see it in his nightmares someday.)

Quark wriggled closer, touch-starved and longing, hoping Odo would get the hint. He would have to be obvious - Odo wasn’t _that_ good a detective, after all. He never did end up sending him to prison.

He reached out to touch Odo’s face, half-expecting it to disappear before he could make contact, leaving him alone yet again. Or for Odo to suddenly transform into something else, monstrous and fearsome, just to see how he would react. 

(Odo had tested him, before - shifted forms like a magician, solely to give him a fright, only ceasing after Quark complained about all the broken bottles and glassware it caused. If there was anything Odo hated, it was thinking of himself as a danger. But every once in a while, when Quark wasn't near anything fragile, Odo would indulge in the occasional scare.)

Once he realized what Quark was doing, Odo dipped his head lower so Quark wouldn't have to strain to reach. He watched Quark with a curious little smile as Quark slowly explored the planes and angles of his face. 

Diligently, Quark traced Odo's precisely-shifted hairline to its end, then gently trailed his fingers around the strands tucked behind Odo's ear. He rested his palm on Odo's cheek and found that the pointed cheekbones weren't nearly as sharp as they looked.

All throughout Quark's quiet explorations, Odo eyed him with a watchful silence. The only breathing Quark heard was his own - he had never been so conscious of the sound of his own breathing before, and it sounded far too loud to his own hearing, but Odo didn't seem to mind. 

Eventually, Odo reached up to grasp his hand and hold it closer to his cheek.

“Quark?” Odo lowered his voice to a droll rumble. “Do I pass inspection?”

Quark huffed a quiet laugh. “Guess so." He rubbed his thumb along the faint crescent underlining the hollow of Odo’s eye, trying not to tremble at how sensually Odo caressed his hand, fingers slowly massaging his skin. "You feel real enough.”

“Hrmph.” Odo gave his hand a squeeze, applying a pressure felt both tender and possessive. “I should hope so.”

Without letting go of Quark’s hand, Odo sank down onto the bed, until they were at eye level with one another on the pillow. 

“Why wouldn’t you think I was real?”

Quark shrugged with one shoulder. “No reason.”

At that, Odo narrowed his eyes slightly, like he used to do whenever he was suspicious of Quark’s reasoning, or motives, or general existence. It was such a comfortingly familiar expression that Quark stifled a laugh.

“What’s so funny?” Odo asked, sounding even more suspicious, which only entertained Quark further.

“Sorry, sorry.” Quark grinned. “It’s just that you look…” 

A faint note of apprehension entered Odo’s voice. “Like what?” 

“I don’t know.” Quark rubbed his thumb along Odo’s cheek. “Like... you’re trying to read my mind with your Changeling goo powers?”

An amused grunt. “Changelings aren’t Betazoids, Quark. I’m not telepathic.”

“You sure about that?”

“I’m sure.” Odo eyed him thoughtfully. “Though it _would_ be rather convenient.”

Without any change in expression, Odo let go of Quark’s hand, then reached over and placed his fingertips along Quark’s temple and cheek. Surprised, Quark let his own hand slip back down onto the covers. 

“My mind to your mind,” Odo intoned solemnly. “Your thoughts to my thoughts.”

For a brief, wild second, Quark wondered if Odo learned how to perform a Vulcan mind meld back on the Changeling homeworld. If the Changelings could infiltrate all those Federation governments seamlessly for so long, maybe they could replicate whatever biology it was that made Vulcans capable of mind melding. Ferengi minds had a way of resisting telepathy, but Quark never discounted the possibility entirely, and he also didn’t discount the possibility that Odo could have picked up a few new tricks during his time in the Link.

He held his breath, eyes wide.

When nothing happened, Quark laughed a little relieved laugh. “I think it goes, ‘ _my_ thoughts to your thoughts.’”

“Pity.” Odo sighed, then relaxed his fingers and changed the touch to a simple caress. “They’re one and the same in the Link.” He lightly stroked Quark’s cheek. “Would it have bothered you if it worked?”

“Maybe," Quark replied, eyelids lowering. Odo's presence in his bed was lulling him into a sleepy contentment. "But I'd still give it a shot. You'd have to promise not to use anything you'd learn against me, though."

Odo frowned. "What do you mean?"

"Business secrets, that sort of thing." He snuggled closer, luxuriating in the warmth and heaviness of his blankets. "They're very valuable."

"Oh, _are_ they," Odo said indulgently, playing along. "And yet you're still living on the station, in the same quarters you've always occupied since the night we met."

"The only quarters in the station with a soundproofed ceiling," Quark replied blithely. "Of course I'd stay here."

"So it's by choice," Odo continued, light and teasing still, even though Quark could swear he detected a hint of something sentimental in the bargain. "And not because you couldn't afford that moon you always wanted? I _had_ briefly entertained the possibility you might have left the station for more profitable lunar pastures, but then I remembered your typical luck." 

"Hey," Quark began, then stopped. A cozy feeling washed over him. "You remembered about the moon?"

Odo nodded. "It's hard to forget something I've heard you mention on forty-nine separate occasions."

(He had even kept _count_.)

"Forty-nine, huh?" Quark asked, smiling. 

"Mm-hmm." Odo continued stroking his cheek, and Quark wriggled closer. 

"What else do you remember?"

Odo slowly cocked his head at the question, making a deeper indent into Quark's pillow. "About what?"

Quark grinned. "Me. Us. I don't know."

He expected Odo to tease him about his ego, or his selfish curiosity. Or tally how many hours he had spent locked in a holding cell. Or to goad him about exactly how much latinum he had lost on deals that Odo had managed to interrupt.

Instead, Odo fell into a contemplative silence. His eyelids lowered, and so did the hand caressing Quark's face. Odo's fingertips gently trailed down his neck, then his shoulder. Quark swallowed as Odo slowly stroked his arm through his pajama sleeve.

"You wore these the night you broke into my quarters," Odo murmured. 

A warm blush swept through Quark's cheeks. "Oh, this old thing?"

"Yes." Odo smiled. He ran his fingertips slowly along Quark's arm, like he was an appraiser and Quark a fine gem.

All Odo did was touch him, yet the light touches made Quark's heart beat faster than a gambler's high. He felt like a touch-starved apprentice who swooned at the merest contact, far too susceptible to the charms of a worldlier man.

How embarrassing. 

Quark spoke up to distract himself. "If I knew your cycle was going to finish before I woke up, I would've worn something nicer."

"These are nice enough," Odo replied. He fingered the fabric, testing the thickness of it. "Did you make much from the betting pool?”

“The what?”

And Odo laughed softly, like he remembered a favorite joke. “Nothing.”

Quark wondered what was so funny.

 

* * *

 

He stepped inside Odo's quarters and forgot what he was going to say.

Odo sat in the middle of the floor like some depressed beige statue. His belongings - whatever weird sculptures and artifacts he deigned to keep in his quarters, anyway - were scattered on the ground around him, some in pieces, all in disarray. Quark hadn't realized Odo possessed so many things. It was his first time visiting. 

As he walked over to Odo and crouched down to talk to him, time passed by in a dreamlike blur. Quark had become somewhat of an expert in impromptu counseling over the years, and he slipped into autopilot, saying whatever wild thing had popped into his mind at the time. 

(Not that he cared about the stupid Changeling's _feelings_ or anything.)

At least Odo looked more pathetic than Quark felt. Probably. 

When Quark returned to his own quarters afterwards, he had laid awake for quite some time, staring at the ceiling, listening to the sounds of Odo tidying up. 

Somehow he didn’t mind that it was even noisier than Odo’s attempts to “quietly” shapeshift into some small animal or other. 

Eventually, the quiet sounds lulled him to sleep.

 

* * *

 

Odo idly continued stroking Quark's arm through his pajama sleeve.

"Do you know what else I remember, Quark?"

Quark drew closer. "What?"

Odo glanced back up at him with a wry smile, a glimmer of flirtatiousness in his eyes. 

"Thinking I should have never let you leave my quarters."

Before Quark knew it, Odo was cradling his head and bringing their faces together.

"Not without this," Odo murmured, before he kissed him.

A flare of arousal licked its way through Quark as he responded to the kiss with a soft, surprised noise. The noise turned into a muffled moan as Quark rolled over onto his back, with Odo leisurely moving over him and pinning him down against the mattress. He reached up to grasp Odo's shoulder, then his face, holding him as close as he possibly could. 

Odo responded with a pleased, low rumble that vibrated through Quark’s skin and left his mouth tingling. Quark gasped into the kiss, fingers trembling as he clutched at the back of Odo's neck. 

Finally, Odo pulled away, leaving Quark dazed on the bed underneath him.

"Wow," Quark said faintly. "Glad you didn't try that back then."

"Oh?" Odo hovered over him, frowning slightly. "Why?"

"Don't think I could've ever left your quarters after that." Quark grinned. "It would've been house arrest."

"Of your own volition?" Odo asked mildly.

Quark waved away the point with a careless hand. "And it would've been _terrible_ for business," he continued, as if Odo hadn't said anything at all. "A one-way ticket to the Vault of Eternal Destitution. You would have ruined my life."

He thought Odo would laugh at that, or at least smirk a bit, but Odo's expression became oddly pensive.

"Perhaps it would have been too soon," Odo murmured. 

Quark blinked up at him, surprised by the somberness in Odo's tone. "I was joking, Odo."

Odo eyed him thoughtfully, then dropped onto his side next to Quark, landing on top of the blankets. 

Silence fell between them, then Quark reached out and lightly tapped Odo on the temple.

"Hm?" Odo made a questioning noise.

"Talk to me," Quark said. "Ferengi aren't telepathic either, you know."

"A mercy on us all," Odo replied dryly, but Quark could still hear something somber in his tone.

"What's wrong?" Quark frowned. "Was it something I said?"

He must have looked more puzzled than he thought, because Odo immediately leaned close to bump their noses together. "Nothing's wrong. You didn't say anything wrong."

"Then what's on your mind?"

"You reminded me of something I recalled during my regeneration cycle," Odo told him. "It's hard to explain."

"Try me."

"It wasn't a good something."

"Oh." Quark paused. "Like a nightmare?"

Odo smiled a humorless smile. "Something like that."

"I have those too. A lot of those," Quark admitted freely. 

"Mm. Sorry to hear that. Am I in them?"

"Not all of them."

"Tell me one."

Quark knitted his browridges. "I'd rather tell you about a good dream instead of a bad one."

Odo smiled. "Very well. Tell me one of your good dreams, then."

"And you'll tell me about one of yours?"

"I don't dream, Quark."

"Fine, fine. A goo memory, then."

Odo snorted. "You first."

 

* * *

 

Quark was old.

Old enough that no one else on the station remembered Odo, except for him.

He didn't run the bar anymore. A lobeling was in charge - one of Rom's granddaughters. Her business sense was astounding, this assertive young lobeling, almost disturbingly like a young Ishka in bearing and command.

Quark was old enough not to care about fe-males in business anymore, so he knew he must be ancient.

Not that his body would let him forget. His cage of a body, frail and sickly, sluggish and slow. His eyes could barely see, and his ears were hard of hearing. 

But he heard the lobeling relay that her brother wanted to speak to him, and she made everyone clear the bar, until it was just him behind the counter, straining to see the screen. 

Nog's son called Quark from his ship, fresh from a mission in the Gamma Quadrant - because of course Nog's son would be in Starfleet as well. (Deluded lobeling, running off to Starfleet Academy and earning commendation after commendation, just like his father.)

"Great-Uncle Quark, there's a Changeling here to see you!"

And then Nog's son changed the view screen so Quark could see.

And there was Odo, standing out as clearly as a summer moon in the night sky. 

Quark could barely see anything, but he could see Odo.

The Changeling looked exactly the same as the last time Quark had seen him, plain old Bajoran outfit and everything. 

"All those years in the Link and you still haven't developed any fashion sense?" Quark croaked.

Odo smiled at him, and Quark felt young again. 

"Haven't had much need for fashion in the Link," Odo replied, cocking his head. "But that can wait."

And Quark saw Odo on the screen, saying, "One to beam to Deep Space Nine."

He could just about make out the sound of something materializing on the other side of the counter. 

Quark turned around.

And there was Odo, standing there and smiling, looking like he had never left. 

Quark wanted to run to him, but he couldn't.

His legs wouldn't move.

He glanced down at his immobile legs, frozen to the spot, but it didn't matter.

Odo ran to him instead, rushing around the counter with ease, until he was close enough to grab Quark's hand.

Staring at the hand in his, Quark was about to shake it, when Odo pulled him forward into a fierce embrace.

The Changeling's arms wrapped around him like they were always meant to be there.

And then Odo kissed him on the forehead, gently and sweetly, as if to remind Quark of their earlier kiss from a lifetime ago.

"I'm sorry I took so long," Odo whispered, running his hands over Quark's wrinkled face.

"Don't mention it," Quark replied. He grinned through the wrinkles.  

He couldn't hear Odo's goo noises anymore, but he could hear Odo say his name, over and over...

 

* * *

 

“I thought the kiss would turn me young again.” Quark laughed in spite of himself. “Old Ferengi fable. The Merciful Intercessor, burning away old age with a kiss, giving Ferengi another chance to be young again and enjoy another lifetime of profit. That way, you’d have the energy of youth tempered by the wisdom of age..."

He waited for Odo to laugh, or comment on the ridiculousness of Ferengi beliefs, or say anything, really.

But Odo just kept looking at him with soft eyes, as if there was nowhere else he'd rather be, listening to Quark ramble on about old dreams.

"It didn’t happen," Quark clarified. "There was no transformation and I didn’t get any younger." He blinked away tears, surprised by their appearance. "There was just you, and me, waiting for what happens next.”

His eyes stung, so he wiped them with his hand.

"That's it, really." 

Odo gently took his hand and pressed a kiss to Quark's palm, rubbing away the leftover tears. 

The Changeling's touch still felt strangely smooth, but Quark supposed he could get used to it.

“I’m sorry, Quark." Odo lowered his hand to kiss the other side, lips lingering over his knuckles before letting go. "I’m so sorry.”

“Yeah, I was too.” Quark looked sly. “I always thought we’d have more of a sexy reunion.”

Odo laughed shakily - a croak of a laugh, his insides not quite ready to shift emotions so quickly.

Quark grinned. “You’d want it too, right? A _sexy_ reunion? I can’t believe I didn’t dream of _sexier_ reunions.”

“Quark, stop!” Odo croak-laughed again. He hugged Quark tightly and the vibrations from his laughter thrummed throughout Quark’s body.

Without really thinking about what he was saying, Quark pressed on, still grinning. “Bet you didn’t think about that, did you? That I’d grow old and you’d still be the same?”

“No, Quark.” Odo's laughter subsided. “I would never be the same. If I ever lost you, I wouldn’t choose to be myself anymore."

"You're joking." Quark's grin faded. "Right?"

"No, Quark." Odo had that distant, almost obsessive look that Quark used to see whenever Odo felt like he was closing in on a long unsolved case. "It's not very appealing, the idea of existing without you. I, as I am now, wouldn't see much point in remaining an individual after that."

Strange. Quark always thought he'd want someone to care so much about him that they couldn't bear the thought of living without him.

Actually hearing Odo say that, however, wasn't as appealing as he'd thought it would be.

And he certainly didn’t want to think about Odo willfully abandoning his… Odo-ness, at all, at any point in time.

"Hey," Quark said, adopting his best bartender-cheering-up-a-patron voice. "Let’s just be glad it didn’t come to that, okay?” 

"Mm." Almost solemnly, Odo hugged him tighter, enveloping Quark in the most serious embrace he had ever received. 

The hug was so serious that Quark had to laugh. "Odo, seriously, lighten up! I can’t breathe. Barely, anyway.”

“I’m sorry!” Odo let go of him almost insultingly quickly.

Sighing, Quark loosely rearranged the Changeling’s arms around him again. “Odo, stop apologizing so much. One, I'm not used to it, so it feels weird. And two, it's fine. You don’t have anything to regret." He chuckled. "Maybe a few things, but it's no big deal now."

“Don’t be so certain," Odo said, sounding distant. "You got me thinking.”

Quark brightened. “Oh, is this going to be your part of the bargain? Your goo memory?”

He thought that might get a chuckle out of Odo, but Odo just looked at the ceiling, far away. “It’s not a 'goo memory,' but in a sense, you can call it that...”

 

* * *

 

It was night, late night, on Terok Nor. Almost everyone on the station was asleep. Except for Constable Odo, who never slept. And, on this night in particular, Gul Dukat.

The doors to Dukat’s office parted, and Odo walked in.

“You wanted to see me, Gul Dukat?”

“Constable!” There was a blurriness to Dukat’s voice, and Odo observed the open bottle of kanar on Dukat’s desk. And another bottle on the table. And yet another bottle, unopened, at the ready, next to the second.

Odo didn’t drink, but based on his observations in Quark’s bar, he had a vague idea of how much liquor was appropriate for an individual humanoid to consume in the course of an evening. And this was clearly not an appropriate amount. He wagered a question. “Are you… all right, Gul Dukat?”

“Oh, I’m more than all right.” Dukat leaned back in his chair. “I am positively _brimming_ with joviality.”

“I see,” said Odo, more out of habit than actual understanding.

“Constable, Constable. Do you know why I called you here tonight?”

“I haven’t the faintest idea. Please enlighten me.”

“It’s your anniversary, Odo! Well, your one-month anniversary of becoming the chief of security of Terok Nor.”

“So it is. But you don’t seem… celebratory, if I may note.”

“You may.” Dukat looked at him expectantly.

Odo tilted his head. “You seem sad, Gul Dukat. Your neck ridges are - ”

“I’m not sad at _all_!” Dukat waved the thought away, a supercilious grin plastered on his face. “I wanted to congratulate you. But perhaps I got a little bit ahead of myself - it’s been a while since I’ve had such excellent kanar, and I may have overindulged slightly.”

Odo was familiar with Dukat’s episodes of overindulgence. He nodded slightly.

Dukat cleared his throat. “I wanted to talk to you about a pattern I’ve noticed in the security tapes as of late.”

“Are you referring to ballistic angles of the attempts on your life? We are still -”

“Oh no, Odo, nothing so mundane as that. Something of a different nature. See, I’ve been playing a little drinking game tonight, in honor of your anniversary.”

“A drinking game?” Quark had told him of such a game before, but Odo hadn’t paid a terrible amount of attention to the explanation - the Ferengi had wanted a listener, and Odo was a good listener, but Odo had also been observing a suspicious Yentarian at the time. He vaguely recalled Quark emphasizing how easily people could become inebriated if certain events happened frequently enough to necessitate repeated drinking of pre-determined amounts. Shots, he recalled.

“Yes - oh, you wouldn’t know, would you? How foolish of me. Let me explain it to you.” Dukat indicated his viewscreen. “Computer, play video file Dukat-alpha-six-Q.”

Something about Dukat’s excessive cheerfulness put Odo on his guard.

The content of the video didn’t help. He stiffened as he watched the video play out in front of him.

“Do you see, Odo?” Dukat chuckled lowly. “Every time you visit the Ferengi’s bar, I took a drink. It began as merely a light entertainment, but....” He indicated the bottle on his desk. “That bottle is empty now, by the way.”

Odo could feel his foot start to melt. He was so tense that his atoms began sabotaging themselves, rebelling at the wrongness of being in this shape, in this place. He hastily pulled himself back together.

“I’ve just started on bottle number two.” Dukat glanced back at the screen, the counter in the corner creeping onward and onward, digits increasing. “There’s still two more weeks left. I’ll have to stop this game soon, or else there won’t be any more kanar left on the station for me to play with!”

Odo was speechless. He had no idea he had visited Quark so frequently. A small part of him knew that the multiple visits a day had to add up to some amount, but he had never bothered calculating the total.

“You like Quark, don’t you, Odo.” Dukat leered at him. “You _like_ that Ferengi. What is it about him that you like?”

( _Quark was the first solid to really treat him as a person, just as any other person, and to be delighted upon realizing that Odo was Odo, to treat his shapeshifting as a miraculous thing, yet to not press Odo to perform, and to try to make it up to Odo for getting off to a bad start._

_The first genuinely friendly person he had met on Terok Nor. Or anywhere. Even if it was just part of his job to laugh, to be warm and welcoming._

_A bright flame that could all too easily go out._ )

“I don’t understand the notion.” Odo kept his voice calm. Neutral. Bored. “Why would I like a criminal?”

“Why wouldn’t you?” Dukat cocked his head. “Don’t lie to me, Constable. The evidence is plain!”

Odo spoke dully. “The evidence is plain that Quark is involved with innumerable circumspect schemes and attempts to evade justice. As such, he requires constant surveillance.”

“So you tell me.” Dukat glanced back at the file, which was still playing. It showed Odo turning away from Quark to smile, almost laugh, before turning back to speak with the Ferengi once more. “I imagine not every criminal is so amusing.”

“No.” Odo couldn’t think of anything more to say. He didn’t know what he felt at that moment. But he did know that Dukat was veering into dangerous territory.

“Odo, Odo, Odo.” His name sounded like a curse when he heard it from Dukat’s drunken lips. “I do wish you were more _combative_ in conversation. Debate with me! Counter-argue!”

“Why?”

Dukat took another drink from the bottle. “Because then I’d have reason to believe you were flirting with me as much as you are clearly flirting with Quark.”

Odo didn’t know where to look. In the background, the video kept on playing - he saw himself bickering with Quark about something. Quark turned away in irritation and dropped a glass from turning too fast. He saw himself extend a hand, faster and longer than any humanoid limb could stretch, to save the glass from crashing onto the floor. He saw Quark’s surprised reaction - no fear, just surprise. A hand brushing against his own as Quark reached to take the glass back…

Dukat was watching as well. “What were you doing there? What _crime_ were you _solving_ by helping him?”

Odo remained silent. He could think of nothing to say. He concentrated on holding his form, on remaining rigid, every thread of his simulated uniform in place, every angle controlled.

Dukat kept watching the video. “For someone who doesn’t care about Quark, you’re certainly a master at flirting with him - according to Cardassian standards, in any case. I’m unfamiliar with Ferengi flirting customs, but even so, it seems as if he responds well to your company.”

The video showed Quark rolling his eyes exaggeratedly at a comment Odo had made, but smiling nonetheless. Whatever it was that Odo had said, Odo couldn’t remember - there were too many such instances. His insides churned in distress as he imagined Dukat watching countless such instances, one after the other, stitching conclusions from disparate moments that had previously seemed so inconsequential.

Dukat eyed Odo speculatively. “Do you ever keep him company, Constable? Outside of the bar?”

Odo maintained his guard. What could Dukat be getting at? “He’s been to my office occasionally. To inform me of security risks.”

“Of course. And in your office, do you ever utilize… the desk?”

“What?” He had heard Dukat, but he hadn’t understood.

“The desk.” Dukat stood up, bracing himself on his own desk. “Do you ever bend him over it?”

“I’m _sorry_?” Odo could tell Dukat noticed his irritation, and resolved to restrain his emotions even more.

“You’re missing an opportunity, Constable. If you enact the proper security code, you can make the doors opaque, and no one could see.”

“...No one could see what?”

“You bending Quark over the desk.” Dukat licked his lips. “Your strength overpowering the Ferengi, seizing him by the wrists as he begs you for more, your hand on his delicate neck... maybe you’d bite into it, just enough to break the skin…”

Odo stared at Dukat. “Why would I ever do that? I don’t eat or drink -”

“It’s not about eating or drinking, Odo. It’s about relishing in the conquest of another being, their body submitting to your strength.” Dukat’s eyebrow arched. His serpent eyes gleamed. “Sexual dominance.”

Odo had once seen Quark comfort a customer who had miscalculated their alcohol tolerance and subsequently vomited all over the floor of the bar. He wished he could do the same - expunge the toxin, free himself from the venom Dukat had instilled in his mind.

( _He watched Quark gently pull the customer’s hair back, watched the customer sob and apologize, and watched Quark order a waiter to clean up the mess, and not be angry… the customer was upset and Quark spoke kindly, so what if he happened to receive an additional few slips of latinum in gratitude, Quark couldn’t have known that would happen..._ )

“I’ve known Quark for years,” Dukat continued. “He’s much like others of his race. Submissive. Stubborn where profits are concerned, but surprisingly… _yielding_ where other matters are concerned. _Hard_ matters, I might add.” He laughed darkly and Odo felt a terrible urge to extend his arm and slam Dukat’s face into the desk, to pulverize Dukat’s jaw into splinters of bone.

Odo did nothing of the sort, and Dukat kept talking.

“He might even enjoy that,” Dukat mused. “I’ve heard tell from other associates of mine that Quark is surprisingly resilient.”

“What do you mean?” Odo asked, in spite of himself, the words tumbling out before he could think about where those words could possibly lead.

Dukat flexed his fingers on the desk’s smooth surface, a deep rumble of laughter bubbling underneath his scales. “It should be a sin for one Ferengi to service so many fine sons of Cardassia. Or maybe it’s beyond sin - I’ve been told his mouth feels like a blessing, his other parts a comfort in times of strife... but I’ve never had that deep a level of interest in xenobiology.”

 _His mouth…_ Odo blinked.

Dukat took another drink, never breaking eye contact with Odo, mouth lingering unpleasantly on the neck of the bottle before speaking again.

“You don’t have to be delicate with him,” Dukat said, and Odo wanted to vomit every molecule of himself outside of himself at the realization that Dukat was trying to give him _advice_. “He can handle rougher treatment. I doubt you’d need any lubrication to breach his -”

“Stop. Please.” Odo said the words softly, and he knew Cardassians were harder of hearing than other humanoids, but Dukat abruptly quieted, looking - contrite? Almost repentant?

There was a line, and Dukat finally seemed to realize he had crossed it long ago.

“I apologize if I made you uncomfortable, Odo.” Dukat glanced back at the video, which had continued playing in the background, and Odo followed his glance.

The bar was dark, last call was long ago, and Quark was cleaning up and chatting with Odo at the counter. There was a shelf that Quark couldn’t quite reach, to put a bottle away - he was jumping and failing to slot the bottle in, so Odo reached up and put it away for him. Quark watched him with a thankful grin, and Odo remembered Quark’s praise, as the Ferengi gazed up at him.

(“ _My hero.”_

 _“It’s nothing heroic, Quark. Just keeping the station safe from broken glass, that’s all.”_ )

Dukat placed the bottle back down onto the desk. “Computer, stop video.”

The scene vanished.

Odo looked back at Dukat. The way Dukat’s neck ridges moved - it still registered as sadness, and Odo couldn’t figure out why.

“Odo… I’ve never seen someone fall in love before. Not like that. Days compressed into minutes, playing out before me.”

Slowly, as if to convince them both, Odo stated flatly, “I’m not in love with Quark.”

“I wasn’t talking about you.” Dukat glanced down at the bottle. “I was talking about him.”

A violent shudder ran through Odo. He had seen Bajorans in love, and he had seen Cardassians rend them apart. Maybe he didn’t love Quark, but he didn’t want Quark to get hurt because of him.

“No,” Odo said aloud. “You must be mistaken, Dukat. You’ve had too much kanar and you’re seeing things that aren’t there.”

“Odo, I wish you would stop lying to me.”

“You’re drunk, Dukat.”

“I am.” The Gul glanced back up. “But that doesn’t mean I don't see the truth.”

They stared at each other, locked in a twisted stalemate.

“So he has an infatuation with me.” Odo shrugged. “All the better for my investigations.”

Dukat regarded him for a long while before nodding in agreement. “Yes, I can see where that would help.”

It occurred to Odo that Dukat could, perhaps, be persuaded to see things from a different perspective. “Infatuation isn’t the same as love.”

“It isn’t.” Dukat looked relieved to be following this new line of thought.

“I could use that to my advantage. Discern further clues that only a bartender could learn from his trusting patrons.”

“Yes, very good.” The corner of Dukat’s mouth went up in a crooked smile. “Very good, Odo. And you’re not in love with him, whatsoever.”

“Whatsoever. How could I be? I can’t.”

“Such a pity.” Dukat sat back down in his chair again. “Perhaps that’s for the best. If you can’t love -”

Odo hadn’t actually meant that, but he allowed Dukat to continue without interruption.

“-then you can remain truly impartial. No ties to bind you. An excellent quality in an investigator.”

Odo grunted.

“Which reminds me. I’ve been keeping tabs on Dr. Mora Pol.”

Warily, Odo tilted his head. “Dr. Mora? Why?”

“Just in case. It never hurts to remain informed, and it’s good to remain aware of the one scientist who knows about the one Changeling in this quadrant. Or any quadrant, it seems. He hasn’t ever found another of your kind again.”

The reminder that he was alone had never been a surprise to Odo, but it somehow carried more weight at this moment, on this night.

Dukat continued. “Would you care if anything happened to Dr. Mora?”

“He was abusive,” Odo said simply. “He threatened me constantly and treated me poorly. I walked out of his lab as soon as I could summon up the wherewithal to do so.”

“You didn’t answer the question, Odo.” Dukat eyed him with an uncommonly sharp perception for someone so drunk. “But no matter. Do you know if Dr. Mora ever had a spouse?”

“I don’t believe he did.” Odo did not share that he had seen Dr. Mora’s attempts at romantic involvements fail time and time again over the years. All Dr. Mora’s own doing, though Odo did note, with some small morsel of sympathy, that it would have been challenging for any Bajoran to marry someone who had to work so closely with the Cardassians.

“Another pity, that.” Dukat swirled the remaining kanar in the bottle before taking a drink. “It would have been nice if there was another way to keep Mora Pol in line.”

“In line?” Odo hadn’t heard anything about Dr. Mora being rebellious, being anything other than perfectly obedient to the Cardassians. He had gotten the distinct impression that Dr. Mora was almost too obedient, that other Bajorans resented him for helping the oppressors so easily.

“We’ve had to threaten his parents multiple times to force him to provide his research expediently.”

Odo knew Dr. Mora loved his parents, and it was one of the few positive traits he could attribute to the scientist. “How… inconvenient,” Odo commented. “But I wouldn’t know what that’s like. I’ve never had any parents.”

“Yes, you haven’t.” Dukat nodded amiably, seemingly easing into a kinder, less ominous phase of his inebriation. “And I suppose you don’t consider Mora Pol your father? Even in a symbolic, adoptive sense?”

Odo scoffed at the thought. That, at least, was true. “Not at all.”

“He’ll be _so_ disappointed to hear that,” Dukat said. “He certainly thinks of you as the child he never had. You know he hasn’t any of his own. Not even a bastard to share his genes.”

“I doubt he ever will,” Odo said.

“So callous!” Dukat placed a hand to his chest, affecting false shock. “Of course you wouldn’t care. And that makes you perfectly impartial. You can stand outside of our messy bonds to each other and remain unblinded by our petty biases.”

It sounded like Dukat was wrapping up. Odo nodded, and turned to leave.

“Odo, you aren’t dismissed.”

Odo turned back around.

Dukat had gotten up from his chair. He walked around the desk until he stood in front of Odo, looking at him speculatively.

He reached for Odo’s face.

Startled, Odo leaned away from the approaching hand, and Dukat coughed falsely. As smoothly as he had begun, Dukat withdrew his hand and pretended he never started the gesture in the first place.

“Out of curiosity, Odo - have you ever tried to take on a female shape? Just to see what it would be like?”

Odo was naive when it came to many forms of solid interactions, but even he could pick up on Dukat’s leer, Dukat’s heightened pulse, the dilated pupils of Dukat’s eyes.

“I haven’t,” Odo replied dully. “But I’d likely have the same face.”

Dukat grimaced. In any other circumstance, Odo would have felt hurt by the reaction, instead of relieved. “Never mind,” Dukat said. “There would still be many interested in such a novel companion, regardless of what form you took.”

“Again, I have no interest in such matters, Gul Dukat.”

The Cardassian nodded. “Yes. We wouldn’t want you developing affection for anyone, even if by accident. It could cloud your judgment.”

“Yes.”

“Pol would be so disappointed, wouldn’t you think? He’d love you to find a mate someday. To provide him with that additional research. Perhaps a grandchild or two.”

Odo shrugged. His reply was measured and nonchalant. “Dr. Mora’s lived a life of disappointments. He’ll get used to it.”

Dukat leaned back against the desk with a practiced casualness that immediately raised Odo’s suspicion. “I don’t think Quark will ever get used to it.”

The sharp turn in conversation took Odo aback. “I don’t think Quark would ever want to have a child with me. Even if it were biologically possible. Hypothetically speaking.”

“You could always adopt.” Again, the strange sadness, so out of place with Dukat’s other bravado, seeped back in. “I’ve known many who have done so, when they could not conceive on their own.”

 _Why did Dukat care so much?_ Odo quickly tried to compile a profile of Dukat based on what he knew of the Cardassian. Dukat had a family back on Cardassia, a family that he professed to love very much. Dukat also had Bajoran mistresses aplenty. As far as Odo knew, Dukat wasn’t exactly a role model for filial ideals. But maybe Cardassian culture made Dukat care about the _concept_ of family as an ideal, nonetheless. Could that be it?

“Honestly, you should consider adoption.” Dukat seemed to have completely forgotten that Odo and Quark were not anywhere near such a relationship. “The way that Ferengi is living, he’s just asking for death at any moment.”

Odo bristled. At the rate Dukat was talking, _he_ was asking for death at any moment.

“I’m serious, Odo. I’ve looked into his files. No spouse to speak of. No children. Who will inherit when he dies?”

“His brother,” Odo recited automatically. “‘Wives serve, brothers inherit.’ Rule of Acquisition number one hundred thirty nine.” He had heard Quark rattle off the Rules so many times, he couldn’t forget them if he tried.

“Impressive,” Dukat noted. “Do you have a photographic memory, shapeshifter?”

“It suffices.” It had been a long night and Odo wasn’t sure if he could tolerate another disgusting speculation, which was where Dukat seemed to be heading. “May I leave now?”

“You may _not,_ ” Dukat snarled, and with a savage violence, he slammed the bottle down onto the desk so hard that it shattered, shards of glass scattering across the floor.

There wasn’t any kanar left inside of the bottle to spill. Dukat and Odo both stared at the shards, glistening in the station light.

“Dukat,” Odo said quickly. “Stay where you are.”

He concentrated and extended his fingers into tentacles to pick up the shards, multiple tendrils curling around the sharp edges, bloodless and unable to bleed, and deposited them into the trash receptacle, as Dukat stood there, frozen in place, watching Odo work swiftly and neatly until every last piece of glass was tidied away.

“You didn’t have to do that,” Dukat said quietly. “You could’ve let me bleed. Wait for me to injure myself.”

“I know.” Odo retracted his tentacles back into himself, his hands like normal hands again.

“Odo, I’m sorry.”

“I know.” Odo had heard this tone countless times before, from Dr. Mora, apologizing for going too far, for demanding too much from him to appease the High Command. He knew Dukat meant it, for now. But only for now.

“Odo, I just realized something.”

“What is it, Dukat?”

“You could kill me anytime. But you won’t. Do you want to know why?”

Suddenly, Dukat cackled. It was an ugly sound, a vile and toxic sound. Odo felt tainted just from hearing it. He regretted putting the shards away.

“Odo, _listen_ to me.”

“I’m listening.”

“Good. Now. If you _did_ kill me...” And Dukat laughed again, mocking the thought, the very audacity of it. “...Who would be left to protect your little bartender?”

A sickening shock went through Odo at the word _little_ . Quark was so small, so much shorter than nearly everyone else on the station, even if Quark _was_ taller than the average Ferengi. Once, Odo had caught Quark by the arm when Quark was about to slip on a wet patch of floor and fall on the Promenade. As Quark prattled on about suing the custodians (“Don’t bother,” Odo told him, “You’d only be hurting the Bajorans and they can’t afford to pay you anyway”), Odo realized how light Quark felt, so lacking in muscle, so susceptible to harm. When Quark then asked him why he was holding on for so long, Odo immediately let go of Quark and pretended to see another incident on the Promenade.

“He’s not my little bartender.” Odo kept his voice neutral, edging into disdain as he continued: “He’s not anything of mine. But Dukat…”

“Yes, Odo?” Dukat leaned in, mouth widening into a hideous grin.

“If he did happen to die unnaturally, and I found out that you had anything to do with it… then what would stop me from killing you in retribution?” Odo’s voice remained dull, his gaze even. “What would stop me from doing unto you what you have ordered done to countless Bajorans?”

Dukat’s grin faltered. “You wouldn’t. Everyone would know it was you.”

“What if they didn’t? I can pretend Quark is my most hated enemy. I may not be able to mimic faces, but I can mimic behavior. I can make everyone believe I despise him, and they would never suspect me of retaliation.”

“But you’re friends,” Dukat said, bewildered. “Why would you sabotage your own friendship?”

_(“Sometimes heroes have to abandon friendship in order to save it,” Odo told Quark._

_“I can’t believe you read that Bajoran pond sludge,” Quark sighed. “I could sell you some very interesting literature of the Vulcan Love Slave variety…”_

_“It’s Cardassian, not Bajoran,” Odo replied. “The Never-Ending Sacrifice. Gul Dukat recommended it to me.”_

_“You’re taking book recommendations from_ Gul Dukat _and not me, your oldest friend?”_

_“You’re my only friend, Quark.”_

_“Whatever.”_ )

Odo steeled himself. “It’s a never-ending sacrifice I am willing to make.”

The reference made Dukat’s eye twitch. “You have got to be joking.”

“I’m deadly serious, Dukat.” Odo permitted himself a smile. “What if you died under mysterious circumstances? And my meticulous investigation, done to the letter of Cardassian forensic principles, was inconclusive? And, for the sake of argument, the Obsidian Order sought to replace you with one of their own candidates, one whose record was unblemished by any personal altercations with -”

“Enough!” Dukat had stopped grinning long ago. His lips pressed into a grim line. “Enough, Odo. I understand. You have nothing to lose…”

“...And you have everything,” Odo replied.

Dukat sighed. “A burden you will never have. I understand. I promise you.”

“What are you promising?” Odo asked innocently, and the corner of Dukat’s mouth quirked upwards.

“Don’t worry, Odo. I’ll forget all this in the morning.” Dukat opened the last remaining bottle of kanar. “This will help ensure it.”

It wasn’t completely reassuring, but it helped. Odo thought of something that would help even more.

“One more thing,” Odo said. Without any change in expression, he said, in a perfect mimicry of Dukat’s voice: “Computer, erase the file named Dukat-alpha-six-Q.”

The computer confirmed. _Dukat-alpha-six-Q has been erased._

Dukat stared at him. “I thought you had trouble with faces.”

Odo shrugged. He switched back to his customary voice. “Faces, yes. Voices, however, are another story.”

Dukat looked at him with a complex expression. He lifted the bottle of kanar in salute. “Odo?”

“Yes, Gul Dukat?”

“This never happened.” Dukat lowered the bottle, and gestured between the two of them.

“This never happened,” Odo repeated.

Dukat nodded, then broke off eye contact. He examined the bottle closely. “You are dismissed, Constable.”

 _Finally_.

Odo nodded, then walked away before he could see Dukat take another drink.

He would have to change his security evaluation of Quark. He would have to make it seem like Quark was petty and insignificant. He would have to pretend he was never friends with Quark in the first place, that Quark’s laughter and admiration meant nothing, that Quark meant nothing to him...

 

* * *

 

Quark stared at Odo in awe.

It was all a lot to process.

He seized on the one positive thread. “You threatened Dukat… for _me_?”

“It wasn’t just for you.” Odo hugged him tighter, curled up around Quark like an animal sheltering its young. “I think it was for me, too. For my self-respect. He didn’t remember any of it later. At least, I don’t think he did.”

Quark tightened his arms around Odo as well. He was too hot now, with both Odo and the blankets surrounding him, yet he still shivered. “Fuck.”

“Yes. Quite.”

“And you really believed him about the whole impartiality thing, huh?”

“I should’ve known better.” Odo ducked down to kiss Quark desperately, confessing in between kisses. “I should’ve - it wasn’t worth it, all those years we could've had - I was too scared to -”

“Odo, stop." Quark wrenched himself away to look Odo in the eyes. “Just stop it, okay? He was wrong.”

“What?”

“ _Dukat_. He was wrong. He tried to use your feelings against you, find out who you cared about so he could use them against you. Like some FCA liquidator instead of a Cardassian Gul." Quark attempted to crack a smile. "Disgusting, right?"

He waited a beat, eyes searching Odo's grave face for a reaction. When Odo didn't laugh, Quark moved on.

"And when he didn't think you had any feelings to manipulate, he tried to mold you into some impossible ideal. Like you were more of a thing than a person. Like you were colder than a Breen winter, instead of someone with passion - and a temper hotter than a Vulcan summer. Occasionally."

A flicker of amusement passed through Odo's eyes, but the Changeling still looked burdened by the weight of what could have been. 

Quark's voice grew quiet and sincere again. "You can't dwell on the past like that, Odo. It's not your fault." He tried to smile. "Trust me, I'll let you know when something is."

"But I _lied_ , Quark." Odo ran a thumb along his cheek. "I lied to myself about you, and I internalized that lie for so long, and I… and I…” 

"And you've got more than enough time to make it up to me," Quark replied cheerfully. He gripped Odo so hard that it was a wonder his fingers didn't sink through the skin. “You've got a second chance. Another spin at the dabo wheel! Aren't you lucky?"

Odo smiled at him. "I am."

"And I'm lucky, too. It's not every day I get to have another chance. We're two incredibly lucky people, you know? We have another chance."

“We have another chance,” Odo echoed. He gently removed himself from Quark’s grip, then lifted both Quark and himself upright into a sitting position on the bed, surrounded by Quark’s nest of blankets. “We’re starting over.”

Their limbs were tangled up in each other, legs crossed over and under, intermingling like roots and branches.

Odo leaned in to kiss him again.

Just at that moment, Quark’s stomach growled insistently.

He groaned, embarrassed. "Guess it’s been a while since I’ve eaten. Let’s go to the bar.”

“You don’t want to eat here?”

Quark stared at him. “Frankly, Odo, I’m insulted. You might as well have suggested we go to the replimat.”

“What’s wrong with the replimat?” And Odo looked so carefully, calculatingly neutral that Quark smacked him on the arm, affronted.

"Odo!"

"What?" Odo said, smirking slightly. "That's no way to treat your Merciful Intercessor."

Another stomach growl. Quark stifled a laugh and tried to look serious. "Stop it, Odo, your sacrilege is giving me indigestion! And if anything, maybe I'm _your_  Merciful Intercessor."

"Burning away my old age with a kiss?" Odo closed the distance just as Quark leaned up to kiss him, and they ended up laughing into each other's mouths.

"Oh please," Quark said. "Like you aren't a strapping young Changeling, even if you do act eternally old."

"I believe the phrase was 'tempered by the wisdom of age'?" 

Quark snorted. "What wisdom?"

"The wisdom," Odo replied grandly, teasingly, "of the many-as-one." And Odo's tone softened. "Though I'll concede we weren't always wise."

Quark was about to reply when he heard another growl - his stomach refused to be ignored.

"Might as well get out of bed," Quark sighed.

Odo inclined his head. "Lead the way."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> _here comes your love, he longs to be near you_  
>  _here comes the summer, i have to be with you_  
>  _when this love starts, won't hurt anymore_  
>  _will you need me again? you've been all on your own..._  
>   
>  **twin shadow** // beg for the night  
>   
>   
>  \- totally made up the stuff about the merciful intercessor (which has no basis in canon) and the never-ending sacrifice (which at least had a shoutout in canon, though i didn't read the respective memory alpha/beta pages very closely)
> 
> \- and lest we forget odo's official security evaluation of quark, here you go: "A self-important con artist who's nowhere near as clever as he thinks he is."


	3. better back together

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Quark and Odo address some of the fallout from the previous chapter, and Quark recalls a key scene in a bathroom.

At Terok Nor, on what began as a relatively peaceful afternoon, an irritated little bartender stormed into the Chief of Security’s office.

“Look, whatever it is I did to make you give me the cold shoulder, I’m _sorry,_ okay?”

“Quark?” Odo sat up in his chair. The Changeling seemed startled by the sight of Quark in his office, which struck Quark as immensely weird. Quark couldn’t even remember the last time he had seen Odo startled by anything. But that was part of why he was here, after all. He was a Ferengi on a mission.

Quark began pacing back and forth in front of Odo’s desk. He needed to set the stage. “Let’s review the facts, shall we? First, you were visiting me everyday like you were my friend or something. Everyday, literally, for a month.”

Odo’s expression remained unchanged, but Quark could hear the tell-tale sound of Odo’s internal goo sloshing around - the man was distressed. You couldn’t be around someone every day without getting used to their weird little noises.

Quark ignored the compulsion to ask Odo what was wrong, and barreled on: “Then you completely _disappear_ on me for a week, vanishing like some debtor on the run. I figured you were busy with an investigation and didn’t have time to see me, which is totally fine, because it’s not like I missed you or anything.”  

He stopped in front of Odo and stared directly into Odo’s fake blue eyes.

“You’re a busy man,” Quark said, “and believe me, I understand. But what I don’t understand is this: when I walked up to you to say hi this morning, you _ran away_ from me!”

“I did _not_ run away from you,” Odo retorted. He set down the padd he had been reading. “I merely happened to recall I that needed to return to the brig. At that very moment. To check up on a prisoner.”

“Spare me the targwash, Odo. You’ve been avoiding me. Why?” Quark leaned against Odo’s desk. “What’d I do?”

Odo abruptly got up from his chair with a hostile grunt. He turned and walked away from Quark until they stood on opposite sides of the desk.

“You didn’t _do_ anything,” Odo rasped. He folded his arms. “That’s why I haven’t been investigating you recently.”

“I’ve been doing all kinds of things,” Quark protested. “Schemes, plots! I’ve learned a lot of information along the way. Don’t you want to know?”

Odo tightened his lips into a thin beige line. If Quark thought they were still on good terms, he would’ve thought Odo was suppressing a smile.

“It’s unnecessary,” Odo said. “I can handle my investigations well enough without the gossip from a self-important bartender.”

Quark frowned. It’d been one week since Odo had even really spoken with him, and that was all he could say? “Fine,” Quark said lightly, pretending he wasn’t hurt one bit. “Your loss, then.”

“Is there something _security_ -related I can help you with, Quark?” Odo’s voice sounded extra gravelly, which Quark adored. But he wasn’t about to let Odo know that, maybe ever. “Otherwise, I suggest you take your leave so I can get back to work. As you noted, I am a busy man.”

Quark folded his arms as well, mirroring Odo’s trademark stance. “Actually, there _is_ something security-related you can help me with. I want to know why Terok Nor’s Chief of Security has been _conspicuously_ avoiding the proprietor of the best bar on the station for the past seven days in a row, despite having _ample_ reason to consult with said proprietor for his unparalleled insight into the Alpha Quadrant’s criminal minds!”

Odo coughed. It almost sounded like a chuckle. Then he tightened his lips again. “That’s not a valid security concern, Quark.”

Quark pouted. “Bet it could be.”

“You should leave, Quark.”

 _I thought we were friends,_ Quark wanted to say. _At the very least._

But he wasn’t sure if he could risk the chance that Odo might reply, _We’re not_.

“You still haven’t told me why you’re avoiding me,” Quark said sullenly. “Again, whatever it is, I apologize, but it’d help if you told me what I’m apologizing for.”

Odo’s face remained impassive but his goo noises suggested otherwise. Much to Quark’s dismay, they sounded… sad?

He thought of the open sea on a cloudy day, a vast expanse of water with no land in sight.

Quark unfolded his arms.

“You should go,” Odo said curtly.

No, something was wrong. Quark’s irritation melted away and left him with a disturbing sincerity in its wake. “Are you okay?”

He started to walk around the desk, but stopped once he saw Odo step back.

“Stay away from me, Quark.” It was a warning and a plea.

“Odo, come on.” Quark couldn’t hide the concern in his voice anymore. “Why won’t you talk to me?”

“I’m talking to you right now. I don’t know why you insist on pestering me.” Odo headed over to the doors and gestured out into the Promenade with a sharp jerk of his head. “Now, please _leave_.”

Quark hesitated. The goo noises were getting violent. Something was very wrong. “But…”

“It’s for your own good,” Odo added quietly. “Please, Quark.”

Quark exhaled sharply. “Okay, fine. I’ll see you around, Odo.”

Odo remained silent as he walked out the door.

They wouldn’t speak again for weeks.

 

* * *

 

It started with the Nausicaan.

The Nausicaan was vital to a deal that Quark was trying to close. Sure, from the moment Quark first saw him on their subspace call, something had seemed off about the face, but Quark chalked it off to how Nausicaans looked gruesome in general. Besides, this guy had _connections_ , and connections led to profit. Quark couldn’t afford to be too picky about faces.

They were due to meet that evening. It just figured that on that very same night, after weeks of barely ever seeing Odo around the station anymore, Quark noticed Odo watching them from the shadows. Odo’s arms were folded as he observed the Nausicaan intensely from afar.

The sight of him made Quark almost lose concentration. He blinked, then tried to ignore the Changeling and continue talking with the Nausicaan, but the familiar faint rustle of goo noises kept getting louder as Odo approached.

He was about to tell Odo that they could talk later if Odo was done with pretending Quark barely existed, but a whisper of metal interrupted his thoughts.

Quark turned back to the Nausicaan and heard the knife before he saw it.

Everything that happened next, happened fast.

Odo moved forward in a blur of action and slammed the Nausicaan down from the barstool onto the ground. He dropped to his knees and ripped off the Nausicaan’s face to reveal a second face underneath: one that was hideously deformed and far more scarred than the ordinary face he had been wearing as a mask.

A chill went up Quark’s spine as soon as Odo yelled out the Nausicaan’s name. Quark recognized it - the name belonged to a serial killer, a particularly sadistic mercenary who was on the run from Cardassian Central Command. Quark wouldn’t have agreed to meet with him if he had just _known._  

Briefly, Odo locked eyes with Quark.

Odo cracked a smile. _Got him!_

Quark smiled in return. _My hero._

Maybe they would be okay again.

At that precise moment, the Nausicaan stabbed Odo in the chest, and Quark watched in horror as the blade pierced through Odo’s back.

Hissing, Quark reached for a bottle and smashed it against the counter. He didn’t think, he couldn’t afford to think as he prepared to vault over the counter, broken bottle in hand - when he heard Odo laugh.

The knife handle stuck out of Odo’s chest where Odo’s heart would have been, if he had any.

But no blood came out, nor the terrible gush of goo that Quark half-expected to pour out of the Changeling.

And Odo was laughing. He wasn’t hurt at all.

Frustrated, the Nausicaan ripped the serrated blade out of Odo’s body and was about to stab Odo again when Odo shot out a tentacle, grabbed the knife, and snapped the blade in half. Carefully holding the pieces of the knife out of the Nausicaan’s reach, Odo formed extra arms to immobilize the Nausicaan’s limbs until his deputies arrived.

“ _Shapeshifter_ ,” the Nausicaan said like a curse.

Odo nodded grimly. “Correct.”

His gaze flickered over to Quark, locking eyes for a second longer than was strictly necessary before glancing away again.

Quark swallowed hard. If he didn’t know any better, he would’ve thought Odo was making eyes at him. Could Changelings even get aroused?

Heart pounding, Quark watched Odo and his deputies escort the Nausicaan out of the bar.

He set down the bottle, or what was left of the bottle, onto the bar counter. Without having to be asked, Broik scurried over and began tidying up the broken glass.

The rest of the evening passed by.

It was late. The patrons were gone and so were the staff. Everyone had left except Quark, who had lingered behind in case Odo might stop by for any follow-up questioning.

Quark was just about to finish closing up for the night. He had his back to the bar’s entrance when a tentacle shot past his ear and slammed into the shelves behind the counter. The bottles rattled from the force of it.

“Odo?”

He turned around to see Odo storm inside the bar. A mass of translucent amber tentacles sprang out from the Changeling, darting across the room to lift Quark up and over the counter before setting him back down in the middle of the bar.

Quark’s boots hit the ground with a soft thud. He was about to tell Odo he was glad to see him, but maybe Odo could cool it with the goo demonstrations already, when Odo retracted the tentacles back into himself and gripped Quark’s shoulders, hard.

“Why do you keep drawing these felons to you?” Odo had snarled at him, really _snarled_ , and Quark flinched in Odo’s grasp. “Why can’t you just _abide by the rules_ like a normal person?"

Adrenaline rushed through him so quickly that Quark barely thought about what he was saying, and he snarled back: “Because I’m _not_ normal, and neither are _you_.”

That did it.

Odo grabbed Quark’s arm and forcibly led him to the bathroom near the back of the bar. He ignored the Ferengi’s protests as Quark kept stumbling, unable to keep up with Odo’s longer limbs, until Quark tripped over his own feet and pitched forward sharply, almost dragging Odo down onto the floor with him.

Exasperated, Odo flung out additional tentacles to lift Quark up so high that Quark’s feet kicked only air, and kept on walking.

“What is _wrong_ with you?” Quark yelled, waving his arms wildly. Under different circumstances, he suspected his flailing would’ve provoked a laugh from Odo, who used to be so amused by their height difference - especially when Quark had informed him he was tall for a Ferengi.

He didn’t understand how so much could change in such a short amount of time.  

Odo remained silent. He threw Quark into the bathroom and slammed the door. The dingy neon lights flickered above them, casting strange shadows across both of their faces as Odo backed Quark into the wall and caged him in with his arms.

Quark had never seen Odo so angry. His own indignation started to build. They hadn’t spoken in weeks and _this_ was how Odo wanted to be? Fine. Two could play that game.

They began fighting in the bathroom, their voices echoing and overlapping so much that Quark could barely hear anything he was saying himself.

He supposed he should have cowered like a good Ferengi would have done at the sight of an angry Odo looming over him, tentacles still spreading from his body like ghoulish limbs.

In fact, if he were really a good Ferengi, he would’ve been anywhere but here, in a dingy old Cardassian bathroom with a furious shapeshifter pinning him to the tiles.

And if he were _really_ a good Ferengi, living his life like a good Ferengi businessman was supposed to do, he wouldn’t be so turned on by the presence of a uniformed _male_ shapeshifter security officer staring him down, hovering mere inches from his face.  

“You can’t scare me with your freakish goo arms,” Quark snapped.

“I’m not trying to scare you!” Odo barked back. His tentacles latched onto the tiled wall behind Quark, forming a vaguely transparent cage around the both of them. “Why can’t you understand that I was trying to save your pathetic little life?”

“Hah!” Quark laughed humorlessly. “That’s fucking rich coming from you, Odo - like you really give a damn about me. Well, you had your chance to play the hero, so _congratulations,_ Constable. Now if you’ll excuse me -”

Odo reached down and grabbed Quark by the arm, preventing him from leaving. He withdrew all his tentacles until it was just him, Odo, a strange-faced security officer, holding roughly onto Quark’s arm.

“Quark, you didn’t see his victims on Bajor. Remember when I had to assist with the High Command’s investigation? He would’ve _hurt_ you,” Odo said.

“You should’ve let me get hurt,” Quark retorted, purely to be contrary.

“Quark,” Odo said reproachfully. “You don’t really mean that.”

Quark remained silent, glaring up at Odo. The tiles felt cold against his back. He tugged at his arm. “Let _go_ of me.”

“No.” Odo was solemn now. He braced his free hand against the wall and pressed Quark into the tiles. “Why aren’t you more scared of me?”

“Why should I?” Quark glared up at him defiantly. Any other time. At _any_ other time, Quark would’ve been thrilled for Odo to be so close to him, to touch him and slam him against a lonely bathroom wall.

“I think there’s something wrong with your fight or flight response,” Odo said quietly. “You keep getting closer to danger instead of running away from it.”

“I’m not trying to make a habit of it,” Quark said.

“See that you don’t.” Odo gripped his arm even more tightly. “You can’t keep finding ways to let these… these _butchers_ on the station.”

“I didn’t know he was a killer, okay?” Quark’s voice grew quiet as well. “Not that kind of killer. And I needed the money.”

“You couldn’t possibly need it that badly.”

Quark sighed. “You’re not a Ferengi, you don’t understand.”

“I _know_ I’m not,” Odo said with irritation, “but nevertheless -”

“You know,” Quark interrupted him, “I don’t fucking get it, Odo. First you can’t leave me alone, then you ignore me for weeks, and now you save my life but you’re _pissed off_ about it? Sorry I’m such an inconvenience, _Constable_.”

“You’re not an inconvenience,” Odo corrected. “I was simply doing my job. What if I wasn’t there?”

As if he were exhausted, Odo closed his eyes and rested his forehead against the wall. Quark knew it wasn’t for physical support. His heavy breathing slowed down.

They both fell silent - Odo with his head against the wall, caging Quark in with one arm and still gripping Quark with the other. Quark with his back to the tiles, looking up at the most confusing person he had ever met.

The buzz of the bathroom lights had distracted Quark from realizing that Odo’s goo noises were turning violent again. He recognized it as the same sound he had heard when he had encountered Odo in his office all those weeks ago.

It suddenly occurred to Quark that _Odo_ was the scared one. And that Odo was scared because he was worried about Quark’s safety.

If Quark were a greedier man, he would’ve stood on his tiptoes and kissed the Changeling right on his stupid thin-lipped mouth. Maybe teach him how to make out. He could see Odo being a fast learner. And he already had the height factor that Quark liked in both men and women.

There were worse places to have a first kiss, right?

But he was tired, and his awareness of Odo’s sad goo noises wasn’t exactly a turn-on, and the forty-third Rule of Acquisition kept echoing in his mind: _Feed your greed, but not enough to choke it._

Quark reached up and lightly patted Odo on the cheek. “Don’t worry about me, Odo. I’m a grown Ferengi. I can take care of myself.”

He let himself rest his hand on Odo’s cheek for a moment, then let his hand fall back to his side.

Odo let go of Quark’s arm. He reached up to touch his cheek where Quark’s hand had been, then pulled back from the wall to look at Quark in the eyes.

“I saw you with the bottle,” Odo remarked. He almost smiled. “You wouldn’t have stood a chance against the Nausicaan.”

Quark shrugged. “Would’ve given him a good run for the money.”

“Hmm.” Odo tilted his head. “I suppose you’ve had to deal with the unruly patron or two on your own before.”

“Yep. Survived this long, at any rate.”

“Even so,” Odo said. “Maybe I should investigate you more frequently. Ensure you’re not dealing with any other serial killers in disguise.”

“Yeah.” Quark gazed up at Odo. He let the corners of his mouth curl up into a lazy grin. “Maybe you should investigate me multiple times a day.”

Odo regarded him. “Maybe I will,” he said softly.

“Three or four times a day should do it,” Quark suggested brightly. “Just so I know you’re thinking about me.”

Odo finally laughed. “That seems like a reasonable amount.”

Quark grinned. He started laughing, too.

 

* * *

 

Years later, at a table in the upper level of Quark’s bar on Deep Space Nine, Odo stared at Quark as he finished his recollection.

“The bathroom?” Odo asked incredulously. “After I captured the Nausicaan serial killer? _That_ was when you first wanted to kiss me?”

“Yeah, what’s wrong with that? Tons of people kiss in bathrooms, amongst other things. We had tension.” Quark popped another grub in his mouth and chewed it thoughtfully. “ _Sexual_ tension,” he added lasciviously, and Odo rolled his eyes.

“I knew what kind of tension you meant, Quark.” Under the table, he lightly nudged Quark’s foot with his own.

“Never hurts to be sure.” Quark dove back into the bowl of grubs. “That fueled some sex dream material for years, by the way.”

Odo coughed. “The bathroom did?”

“Ab-so-lutely.” Quark took on a fond, misty-eyed look. “Mood lighting and a passionate Changeling slamming me into the wall - not a bad combination.”

“That doesn’t sound very romantic,” Odo said in dismay.

Quark shrugged. “I thought it was plenty romantic.”

“Harrumph. I should hope you don’t intend for us to -”

“- fuck in a bathroom anytime soon?” Quark interjected. He waggled his eyeridges extra mischievously at Odo’s noticeable wince. “Why, what else did you have in mind?”

“Nothing that can be said in polite company,” Odo replied primly. “Besides, we’re due to meet Lt. Dax at any minute.”

“It’s not like Ezri hasn’t walked in on worse conversations,” Quark said.

“All with you, I imagine?”

“Ha ha, very funny. I should ask Ezri to explain her latest paper to you sometime. You might like it - lots of insights about neuroscience and the biological reasons for what makes humanoids tick.”

“Hmm.” Odo nudged Quark’s foot again. “I’m more interested in what makes _you_ tick, Quark.”

“Odo, please. I’m trying to eat.” Quark nudged Odo’s foot back, smiling.

They continued to bicker fondly until Ezri arrived to greet them.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> _louder, lips speak louder_  
>  _better back together_  
>  _still it's a sharp shock, to your soft side_  
>  _summer moon, catch your shut eye_  
>   
>  **yeah yeah yeahs** // soft shock  
>   
>   
>  \- this fic is rapidly shifting its definitions of fluff, whoops. ultimately this was all build-up to quark fondly reminiscing about the first time he wanted to kiss odo, what a sap.
> 
> \- some scenes inspired by: tng's Tapestry / [this excellent ds9shameblog art](http://ds9shameblog.tumblr.com/post/108400958009/i-wanted-to-draw-them-actually-angry-at-each-other) / [the 43rd Rule of Acquisition](http://memory-beta.wikia.com/wiki/Ferengi_Rules_of_Acquisition)
> 
> \- "I usually make it a point to drop by Quark’s three or four times a day at random intervals, just to let him know that I’m thinking about him." - Odo, in ep 3x10: Fascination


	4. making up with the other me

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Turns out the forehead kiss wasn't the only kiss Curzodo felt like giving!
> 
> Ezri helps them make sense of the past and Brunt helps propel them towards the future.

Ezri’s unbridled enthusiasm caught them both off guard.

“I _knew_ it!” Ezri exclaimed, almost hopping in her seat with delight. “Well, to be honest, _Jadzia_ ’s always known for years that you two had some kind of deep soul connection, but I don’t think she ever spelled it out to anyone because she wanted to respect your wishes and everything, but _technically_ though, I don’t think things really started falling into place for her, I mean us, until Curzon and - uhhhh. Um.”

She immediately stopped talking and flashed an apologetic look at Quark.

“Sorry,” she whispered.

Quark sighed. He had almost forgotten himself.

Odo leaned forward. “Curzon and _what_ , Lieutenant?”

“Nothing!” Ezri said too brightly. “So, Odo, it’s been ages since I last saw you, how are… things?”

Even at the best of times, Ezri was a terrible liar.

Quark, who had been resolutely ignoring Ezri’s attempts to make remorseful eye contact with him, permitted himself a small kick to Ezri’s shin under the table.

To her credit, Ezri did not draw attention to the kick. She managed to keep her wince to a minimum.

“Lieutenant.” Odo glanced between the two of them with suspicion. “Why would you mention Curzon? The only time he would have -”

His eyes widened.

“ _You_ and Curzon,” he said to Quark, realization dawning.

“Will you look at the time,” Ezri said, laughing uncomfortably, “I should probably be going -”

Odo and Quark both glared at her as she attempted to rise from her seat.

“...My mistake,” she corrected, and sat back down.

They had a lot to discuss.

 

* * *

 

Curzon was happy. Curzon was drunk.

He was trouncing the Ferengi hustler at tongo and he was enjoying himself immensely as he sat by the beautiful Jadzia’s side.

Curzon was also enjoying the effect his presence had on the bar’s proprietor. Quark had kept finding excuses to check in on them, even as the rest of the bar constantly demanded his attention. Occasionally they made eye contact. Each time, Quark blushed and looked away.

He wondered what Quark thought of that forehead kiss.

As for his host, who had glossed over the kiss and told Curzon it was part of a simple prank...

( _And who am I to argue with my gracious host?)_

Odo wasn’t sure if it was because of the drunkenness, but he felt happy as well. The Tranya still coursed merrily through his simulated blood. It had burned when it went down his throat - a pleasant fire, liquid and warm. He wondered if it would feel that way after Curzon left.

 _(Why do I have to leave?)_ Curzon asked him pointedly.

It had never occurred to Odo. _Is it even possible for you to stay?_

_(We could try. You’d have a hell of a time.)_

_I’m unfamiliar with that expression. Is there a positive association with this “hell”?_

_(You’re a riot, Odo. Here, I’ll lend you some context.)_

Curzon waited a beat, and felt a distant realization flush Odo’s cheeks as he took another spin at the tongo wheel.

Jadzia looked at him curiously. “Are you okay?”

Curzon reassured her that he was merely starting to feel the effects of the Tranya.

He wasn’t completely sure how it all worked, him gambling away in this new body and holding a lively mental conversation with his host, but the Trills were a species that defied explanation, and Curzon was an exceptional Trill, even in death.

 _(Living, in a sense, through you),_ he informed Odo.

 _In a sense? Nothing about this makes sense,_ Odo noted. _But I think… this is an approximation of linking, made individual, between just us two._

_(There are other ‘approximations’ between two individuals that you could enjoy, Odo.)_

His host’s mind went silent. Curzon shrugged and spun the wheel again.

 _(Opportunity awaits you, Odo_.)

_Hmph. I know what you’re thinking._

_(And do you agree?)_ Curzon waited for a reply as he gathered his round’s winnings towards him.

 _You should concentrate on the game,_ Odo thought.

 

* * *

 

The conversation they had with Jadzia in the security office was... unsettling.

Curzon wandered back to Odo’s quarters to think.

 _Perhaps that wasn’t such a good idea,_ Odo chided as he walked down the corridor. _Jadzia was upset. Maybe we should end the zhian’tara. Shall I find the Guardian?_

_(Let’s not be hasty, Odo! There’s still so much I have to show you. You’ve lived your whole life without ever knowing the simple pleasures that drinking - and other entertainment - can provide. Jadzia can wait a little while longer.)_

_You’ll have to tell her someday, Curzon. Sooner, rather than later._

Curzon coughed. ( _Oh really, Constable? You're one to talk.)_

_...And what is that supposed to mean?_

_(You know very well what I mean, Odo.)_

_I do not. Please explain._

Curzon smirked. ( _The little bartender of yours.)_

Odo slapped himself in the face. The sound echoed sharply in the corridor and Odo was relieved that no one else was there to witness the sorry sight.

 _(What in the world did you do that for?)_ Curzon asked, bemused. He gently rubbed his cheek, then let his hand fall to his side. ( _You’re only hurting yourself.)_

 _Based on what I’m learning about you,_ Odo thought dryly, _you deserved it._

_(See how great an influence I have on you? Your sense of humor’s improving already.)_

They continued walking.

Curzon was just about to open the doors to Odo’s quarters when he heard footsteps in the distance. He turned to look.

“Hey - oh,” Quark said, stopping short of greeting him. “You’ve still got those Trill spots.”

“Sorry to disappoint you, Quark.” Curzon gave him a crooked grin. He eyed Quark speculatively, then walked over to him. He slowly ran the backs of his hands down the sides of Odo’s face, knuckles grazing the lines of spots as they trailed down to his collar. “You like?”

Quark laughed nervously, going tangerine in his cheeks. He broke off eye contact and sidestepped around Curzon, nearly tripping over himself in his haste to leave. “Well, great seeing you, I’ll be on my way -”

“Not so fast, Quark.” He reached out and grabbed Quark’s arm, pulling him back lazily, effortlessly. “We should talk.”

“Okay, so talk,” Quark said.

“Don’t sound so thrilled about it,” Curzon said with fake hurt. “What would your friend the Constable say?”

Odo’s thought had an edge to it. _He’d say you should stop this, Curzon._

“We’re not friends,” Quark said quietly. He glanced away and looked down the empty corridor.

_(Odo, did you hear that? What have you done to poor Quark to make him believe such a lie? Don’t you want to make amends?)_

“I’m sorry to hear that, Quark.” Curzon gently maneuvered Quark towards him, his hand curled around Quark’s upper arm. “Would you like to talk about it?”

Quark ignored the question. He glanced up at Curzon shrewdly. “What’s it been, hours since the zhian’tara should’ve ended? That can’t be good for Jadzia.”

A brief flicker of defiance passed through Curzon’s face. “You needn’t concern yourself with that.”

“It’d make life easier if I didn’t,” Quark said testily. “But Jadzia _is_ my friend, and her well-being _is_ a concern of mine.” He yanked his arm out of Curzon’s grasp. “So when are you going to give Curzon’s memories back to her?”

“Give them back? But I _am_ Curzon, Quark.” And Curzon hovered over Quark with a smile. “Would you like me to prove it to you?”

_What are you doing, Curzon?_

_(All in good time, Odo, you’ll see…)_

Eyes widening, Quark stepped away so quickly that his back hit the corridor wall with a soft thump.

It was almost too easy. Curzon braced an arm against the wall and gazed steadily into Quark’s eyes before glancing down at Quark’s mouth. He leaned closer to Quark, a smile dancing on his lips...

_Curzon, NO._

He stopped short.  

Quark looked up at Curzon, wide-eyed, breath coming out raggedly. “What are you doing?”

“I’m…” Curzon closed his eyes and pulled back, Odo’s internal rage arresting his movements. He grunted in exasperation. “Sorry, Quark.”

“Sorry?” Quark blinked, confused. “For what?” He kept his face tilted upwards, lips parted.

Even without the benefit of centuries of borrowed experience to inform him, Curzon could tell when a man was ready to be kissed.

Quark wasn’t usually his type, but at this moment, in this body, he was everything.

In an even more intoxicating rush of feeling, Curzon sensed he could make Quark’s dreams come true. One dream, at least. And he wanted to chase that feeling.

“Nothing,” Curzon said lightly, ignoring the angry buzz resounding in his mind. He leaned forward and placed his other hand on the back of Quark’s neck, his fingers gently resting along the juncture between skull and spine.

_Curzon, I’m warning you -_

_(He wants it, you’ll see. But for your sake, I’ll ask this time.)_

“Quark,” Curzon breathed out, his voice low and gravelly. He held Quark’s gaze. “May I?”

“May you what?” Quark’s eyes were half-lidded as he stared at Curzon’s lips. His pulse raced - Curzon could feel it underneath his fingers. Such a simple feeling, yet so promising.

Slowly, Curzon massaged the back of Quark’s neck. Simulated adrenaline shot through his borrowed body at the contact. It had been too long since he’d had this kind of opportunity. “May I kiss you?”

Quark gave him a barely perceptible nod, and Curzon closed the distance.

_(You should’ve done this long ago, Constable. Watch and learn.)_

Shivering against him, Quark leaned up into the kiss, his hands fisting Curzon’s simulated clothes. Curzon grazed a fingernail along the back of Quark’s ear and Quark yanked Curzon even closer to him, making a shamelessly desperate mewl from the back of his throat.

Curzon smiled against Quark’s mouth. He gently bit Quark’s bottom lip and chuckled softly when Quark whimpered accordingly. The Ferengi was so responsive, so pliant, and the complex history he had with Odo added such a delightful _spice_ to their encounter.

Exploring Quark’s reactions in this body felt so revelatory. Like he was reborn, learning how to touch for the first time all over again. Curzon stroked Quark’s ear with a featherlight caress and was rewarded with a shaky moan as Quark melted against him, his for the taking.

“Inside,” Curzon growled into Quark’s ear. “Now.”

He pulled back - just enough to rake his eyes proudly over Quark’s glazed eyes and wrecked state - and tugged Quark towards Odo’s quarters.

They had barely gotten through the door when Odo’s distress made itself known.

_Curzon. End this._

_(But Odo, we’ve only just begun!)_

He longed for the feeling of flesh against his own, the sweet surrender of another being giving themselves over to him. A selfish desire, perhaps, but completely justifiable under the circumstances. He had a new chance at life and he was ready to affirm it.

_This isn’t right. You’re not doing this for the right reasons._

_(But he wants it, Odo! Couldn’t you feel how touch-starved he was? How much he craved the contact?)_

He filled Odo’s mind with memories of sensual touches and rough fabric sliding over soft skin, heartbeats pounding through hot summer nights. The devastation wrought by a well-timed press of the tongue. The way a ghost of a kiss could haunt the recipient for days.

_(Don’t you want to see what happens next?)_

Curzon smiled to himself as Odo grew silent, watchful, hovering in the back of his mind.

He steered Quark towards a wall, somewhat disappointed in the lack of a bed in Odo’s quarters, or any other furniture beyond Odo’s abstract objects. No matter, Curzon thought as he plundered Quark’s mouth in another hungry kiss. He could make do with what he had.

Along the way, he stripped Quark of his jacket, of his vest, until only a thin layer of cloth stood between his hands and Quark’s skin. Quark arched against him as they hit the wall, still kissing breathlessly. Curzon recalled lifetimes of close encounters in dark rooms, each body a treasure waiting to be explored. He gently took hold of the fastener on Quark’s shirt.

At that movement, Quark inhaled sharply. He grabbed at Curzon’s wrist. “No.”

 _Stop_ , Odo insisted. A slow build of anger rose like bile in his throat. _He doesn’t want this, he -_

Curzon sighed internally, ( _It’s a Ferengi instinct about male nudity, and it’s not what you think. I know what I’m doing.)_

“Quark?” Curzon spoke into Quark’s ear, lips mere millimeters from brushing against the skin, breath ghosting, hot. “Let me?”

Quark shivered. He let go of Curzon’s wrist. “Fine, just - don’t remove the whole thing.”

“I’ll take it slow.” Curzon leisurely dragged down the fastener on Quark’s shirt. He glanced back up at Quark’s closed eyes, then dove in, licking a long slow stripe along Quark’s exposed neck, nose nuzzling the underside of Quark’s jawline.

Quark bit off a desperate whimpering noise. Curzon smirked.

He could feel Quark’s pulse beating frantically under the skin. He opened his mouth to take a playful bite -

_CURZON._

Suddenly he was flung backwards, violently, onto the ground.

Quark opened his eyes. He collapsed against the wall, panting, looking at Curzon with alarm. “Are you okay?”

“I’m fine,” Curzon ground out between gritted teeth. He hadn’t expected Odo to sabotage him like that.

“You don’t look fine.” Quark let himself slide down the wall. He sat on the floor and scrutinized Curzon, tilting his head, as if listening for something. “What’s going on in that weird Changeling-Trill mind of yours?”

“I’m… not sure, actually.” He winced as electric shocks stung him behind his shut eyes.

_Stop this. Now._

_(Odo, you don’t know what you’re missing!)_

_Curzon. I have my reasons._

His face blanched. Nausea twisted his insides. The utter revulsion Odo had felt when Dukat had insinuated…

He clutched at his stomach, keeling over. He wanted to vomit and he couldn’t.

_(I’m so sorry, Odo.)_

_...It’s okay._

_(It’s not, Odo. I’m sorry. I was selfish and I am sorry.)_

“Too much to drink,” he told Quark, who was looking at him with concern. “You should go.”

Quark regarded him for a long while. “You were drunk?”

Curzon smiled ruefully. “I was.”

“And… this is Curzon speaking, right?”

“Right.”

Quark nodded slowly. “Because if it were Odo, he wouldn’t have kissed me.”

_Tell him no, Curzon._

“No,” Curzon said.

Quark sighed. He didn’t seem surprised. “Yeah, okay.” His voice grew small. “Please tell me he won’t remember this after the zhian’tara’s done?”

“He might not. I can make him forget.”

_Curzon?_

_(It’s the least I can do, Odo.)_

“You can?” Quark asked.

“It’s a Trill thing. Remember Joran? If Trill couldn’t suppress our memories, he would have ruined every subsequent Dax host.”

“Guess that makes sense.” Quark looked thoughtful. “So... this never happened.”

The room felt too cold.

Curzon walked over to Quark and sat down next to him on the floor. He leaned against him, then pressed a conciliatory kiss to the side of Quark’s head, right above his ear.

“Quark, he does care for you.”

A wry smile twitched at Quark’s lips. He glanced back up at the other man. “Thanks, Curzon.”

Curzon nudged him with his elbow. “And I, personally, had a very enjoyable time tonight.”

“Same here.” Quark nudged him back, then glanced down at Curzon’s mouth. “Well, so long, then.”

Curzon followed his glance and smiled. He leaned in and gave Quark a quick, tender farewell kiss. “So long, Quark.”

Quark smiled back, then got up.

He watched Quark put his outer layers back on and leave Odo’s quarters.

He leaned heavily back against the wall and closed his eyes.

_Curzon?_

_(Yes, Odo?)_

_Thank you. For being sorry. And for… the lessons._

Curzon laughed. It had a penitent ring to it. ( _Guess you’re never too old to learn. Why don't you show me what it’s like to be a Changeling?)_

 

* * *

 

It was all out in the open now.

Odo had done most of the talking, which was honestly as surprising to Quark as the actual content of what Odo had said. Ezri filled in the odd detail here and there, and Quark occasionally asked what had gone through their minds at the time, while trying not to reveal how much he had thoroughly enjoyed being kissed by a hedonistic old Trill hijacking Odo’s body.

They all looked each other with varying degrees of embarrassment and affection.

“So, wow,” Ezri said. “Um, Quark, I know why Dax never mentioned it again, but why didn’t you?”

Quark shrugged. “Fun night, drunk Trill, didn’t see the point in bringing up again. Until now, I guess.”

He hadn’t known how much Odo had struggled with himself that night. Making out with Curzon had been thrilling and almost offensively hot, but learning the extent of Odo’s protectiveness somehow flustered Quark even more.

“I’d always wondered what I did to make Curzon break things off so suddenly,” Quark confessed. “Gotta say, it helps to know it wasn’t me.”

“It wasn’t,” Ezri and Odo said simultaneously, talking over each other in their haste to reassure Quark. They turned to look back at each other significantly, slightly irked.

Quark laughed. It was too much. “That’s the last time I make out with someone during a zhian’tara.”

“I should hope so,” Odo said gruffly. He turned to Ezri. “Speaking of which, Lieutenant, have you already had your ceremony?”

“Hmm? Oh, not yet, but uh…” At Odo’s alarmed expression, Ezri quickly added, “I don’t think Curzon would behave the same way during mine. I mean, if he were being hosted by any other volunteer, because I wouldn’t ask you to volunteer again - unless you wanted to! Obviously.”

Odo seemed somewhat mollified, but still suspicious. “And what would the difference be, if someone else hosted Curzon during your zhian’tara?”

Ezri looked thoughtful. “From what I understand, you and Curzon were more equally joined than any other zhian’tara host and hosted had ever been. So if Curzon were hosted by anyone else, he wouldn’t merge with their identity as much as he had merged with yours - it would be more like he was temporarily borrowing their body, without any of their own personalities or motivations influencing his behavior.”  

She smiled sheepishly.

“Soooo,” Ezri concluded, “he wouldn’t try to hit on Quark again, without your influence. I think.”

“See to it that he doesn’t,” Odo grumbled.

Quark, who had been listening intently and quietly throughout Ezri’s explanation, suddenly broke into a grin. “Hey, but that means _you_ wanted to hit on me that night, right, Odo?” He glanced back at Ezri. “I take it that’s how the merging thing works?”

“Well, it depends on what Odo had wanted, since the host can reassert themselves at any time during the zhian’tara.” Ezri glanced back at Odo. “And if I recall correctly, you were more assertive than most - you could physically restrain yourself from doing anything you didn’t want Curzon to do.”

“That’s correct.” Odo’s gaze flickered over to Quark. He held eye contact for a fraction too long, raking his eyes up and down the Ferengi’s suddenly too warm body. “The kiss in the bar, Quark?”

“...Yeah?” Quark blushed again at the memory of it.

Odo leaned forward and gave Quark a slow, crooked grin of his own. “That was all me.”

Quark swallowed hard. He coughed and blinked rapidly, then reached for his glass of slug juice. “Wow.”

“Yeah, wow, indeed,” Ezri echoed, resting her chin in her hand.

She and Odo both smiled at Quark as he took a hasty gulp of his drink, blushing furiously.

Suddenly Broik appeared by their table. “Boss? Sorry to interrupt, but Brunt’s calling again.”

Quark sighed heavily.

“ _Brunt?_ ” Odo seemed to twitch slightly at the mention of the former liquidator. “What is _he_ doing calling you?”

“Ooh, I should definitely be going,” Ezri said quickly, getting up from the table as fast as possible. “We’ll have to catch up another time, Odo. Bye!”

“Wait, Ezri, don’t go!” Quark pleaded.

“Bye, Quark!” She dashed down the stairs with a speed that would have impressed Quark if her departure hadn’t felt like such a personal betrayal.

Broik hovered near the table uncertainly. “Boss? It’s the fifth time he’s called today, but you were out all the other times, so -”

Quark shushed him. “Okay okay, thanks, Broik, I’ll take the call in the back room.”

“I’m coming with you,” Odo said. 

 

* * *

 

Odo slung an arm around Quark’s shoulders as they sat down to take the call.

The gesture was almost distractingly territorial. Quark knew that Odo still despised Brunt for the incident with the Nausicaans. Even when Quark reassured him Brunt couldn’t possibly hurt him now, old instincts couldn’t vanish so easily.

Not that Quark minded. He wiggled his shoulders slightly before he turned on the viewscreen, the welcome weight of Odo’s arm draped over him like body armor, as he braced himself to greet his least wanted admirer.

“What do you want, Brunt? I’m busy.”

“Hel- _lo_ , Quark - oh.” Brunt blinked. “And a good evening to you as well, Constable… Odo, was it?”

“That’s right,” Odo grunted. “But just Odo, for now.”

“What?” Quark looked at him with surprise.

“ _Most_ intriguing,” Brunt exclaimed, his glance shooting between Quark and Odo as he conducted his internal calculations. “Am I to understand that you are no longer Constable of Deep Space Nine?

“That is correct,” Odo said, a suspicious lilt stretching his words.

“You didn’t mention anything about that to me,” Quark whispered, and Odo raised his nonexistent eyebrows at him as if to say, _We’ll discuss this later._

“What an interesting turn of events!” Brunt exclaimed. “If I may ask -”

“You may not,” Odo replied, deigning to turn back to the viewscreen. “Now, what is the purpose of your call, Brunt? Do you call Quark often?”

“Not that often,” Quark said, because now was definitely not the time to mention all the times Brunt had pestered him ever since Rom became the new Nagus.

He gave Brunt a meaningful look, and Brunt quickly nodded in agreement.

“Not often at all! Apologies for the interruption, gentlemen - I had merely wanted to inquire if Quark would be interested in some additional leads I had obtained regarding the Changeling Laas…”

“ _Laas?_ ” Odo leaned closer to the screen. “What do _you_ know about Laas?”

“Not a whole lot,” Quark sighed, “but we’ve been trying.”

“I’ve been assisting Quark with his search for the Changeling,” Brunt explained. He affected an ingratiating smile.

“He’s also trying to suck up to me because I’m the Nagus’s big brother,” Quark added, very aware that Odo’s internal goo noises were approaching something akin to an ocean in a storm.  

“That is a contributing factor,” Brunt acknowledged.

Odo narrowed his eyes slightly. “Because Rom is the new Grand Nagus.”

“Right.” Quark nudged Odo with his elbow. “Hey. Why else would Brunt be helping me?”

Odo remained silent, ominously so. The arm he had around Quark’s shoulders seemed to vibrate minutely.

“Odo,” said Brunt obsequiously, “I can assure you, my intentions are purely... _ambitious_ in nature. Fiscal, primarily.”

“That’s not at all reassuring,” Odo muttered. “But never mind that for now.” He turned to Quark. “Why are you trying to find Laas?”

“Because I figured he might have the same disease as you did,” Quark said simply. “And that it’d be pretty important to bring him to you. Or the Link, at least.”

Odo looked at him, suspicion melting away into an awed form of relief. “I thought you didn’t like him.”

“So?” Quark felt embarrassed all of a sudden, unaccustomed to addressing his attacks of conscience so openly. “Doesn’t mean I want him to die. At least, not like that.”

“ _Incredibly_ thoughtful of Quark,” Brunt piped up obnoxiously. “The Nagus would be _so_ proud of his elder brother’s noble -”

“That’s enough,” Quark said. “Now, cut to the chase, Brunt. What’d you find?”

They listened as Brunt presented his intel, of a haughty shapeshifter who now moved stiffly, who seemed to appear most frequently at night, where the shadows could mask his disintegrating form.

He was a stubborn entity, and he was alive - causing just enough mischief for Brunt’s network of agents and operatives to keep track of his movements across the quadrants. For whatever reason, Laas seemed intent on remaining in place, on just the one planet, near Koralis III.

Quark paid Brunt some pittance for his troubles - Brunt never accepted more than a pittance from the Nagus’s brother, but he always accepted some compensation, like a good Ferengi should - and ended the call.

Odo’s arm hung heavy on Quark’s shoulders. He seemed exhausted by his new knowledge.

“It’s my fault,” Odo said. “I should’ve looked for Laas as soon as the Link had finished healing. Maybe even beforehand.”

“Odo, I don’t think it’s your fault at all. He’s not dumb - he could have found the Link if he wanted to. Sure, the guy had a superiority complex, but I don’t doubt for a second that Laas, the great Changeling who thinks he’s so much better than us puny solids, would’ve let himself die without a fight.” Quark looked up at Odo, who had grown quiet. “And from the sound of things, it sounds like he’s still out there.”

“Mmm.” Odo pulled Quark closer. He seemed to derive comfort from the press of Quark’s body against his.  

“We can go look for him.”

“We? But what about the bar?”

“I’d always planned on taking a trip whenever we got a more specific lead.” Quark leaned on Odo’s chest, snuggling under his arm. “Before you returned, maybe I hoped that Laas would’ve been an excuse to go visit the Great Link. In case you were there, or whatever.”

“And now that I’m here, you still want to find him?” Odo pressed a slow, deliberate kiss to Quark’s forehead. He seemed touched by Quark’s efforts.

Quark shrugged. “Like I said, I didn’t like the guy, but… I remembered what happened to you. That morphogenic virus was torture, and it was wrong. And once I thought about that, well, I don’t know. Guess I felt I had to do something.”

It was the same stupid compulsion that convinced him to sell food and medicine to Bajoran refugees at just above cost. It was what made him a nontraditional Ferengi, a deviant at best.

Odo regarded him with a smile. He looked as if he had read Quark’s mind and liked what he saw. “You still manage to surprise me sometimes, Quark.”

Quark snorted. “Only sometimes? I’ve been getting lazy without you around, Odo.”

“Hmm.” Odo leaned in and nuzzled Quark’s nose tenderly. “Suppose so.”

Quark nuzzled him back, a deep contentment spreading through him.

He was beginning to understand what Rom meant when he said Nog’s happiness was more important to him than latinum.

It felt wrong to care that much about anyone. But this felt right.

There was just one more thing.

“Odo?” He glanced up at the Changeling.

“Yes, Quark?”

“Are you really not going to be a constable anymore?”

“Perhaps. It was never an official rank, anyway.”

“Huh.” Quark mulled this over. “Then why did you still give yourself a Bajoran security uniform?”

Odo rested his forehead against Quark’s. “I wanted to look the same as I did the last time you saw me. You don’t like it?”

“No, I do.” Quark winced at his own words, embarrassed by how fond he’d been of seeing Odo in his reliably boring beige get-up. “But it’s… a little confusing. If you aren’t planning on being a security officer anymore.” And he would definitely need to ask Odo more about that, later. “Maybe try something new?”

“What should I wear instead?” Odo pulled back slightly to give himself some room. “How about this?”

He casually shifted, and in a moment -

“No,” Quark said as he stifled a dismayed laugh. Odo had perfectly mimicked Quark’s own multi-colored clothing, a spectrum of rainbow rectangles neatly patterned underneath a jacket with bolder shapes and brighter shades, measurements extended to match Odo’s proportions.

It was almost too intimate. He wouldn’t be able to get anything done if he saw Odo looking like him everyday.

“No couple’s outfits!” Quark begged. “I hated when Rom and Leeta did it and we are _not_ going to have matching outfits.”

“Are you sure?” Odo teased. He concentrated and shifted again. “What about this?”

“NO,” Quark squawked, recoiling at Odo’s hideously exact imitation of Brunt’s brocaded garments. He felt blindsided by a living nightmare in immaculately tailored clothing.

“...Just a joke, Quark.” Odo shook himself slightly and transformed his clothes once more.

Quark went silent. Now Odo’s outfit resembled that of an affluent Bajoran civilian’s - minimalist, elegant, clad in charcoal and muted earth tones. Like a sleeker, far more sharply tailored version of what he had worn when he first met Quark.

“Better?” Odo asked.

Quark blinked. Odo looked good. “Yeah. That’s good.”

“Is there anything else I should… change?”

“What? No. Not unless you want to,” Quark added. “Change, that is.”

“Nothing about my face, perhaps?”

Quark blushed again. He thought of how wrong it felt to see Curzon-Odo waltz into the bar, Trill spots cascading down his neck, features disrupting the face he had grown to know - and, admittedly, love.

Odo was wrenching all kinds of despicable honesty out of him nowadays.

“I like your face,” Quark replied. “I’m used to it. Even if it’s not always the same.”

Odo blinked. His gaze drifted down to Quark’s lips, then traveled back up to his eyes.

After a thoughtful pause, Odo asked, “Have you been reading my books when I was away?”

Quark snorted. “Don’t make me laugh, Odo, I won’t be able to keep these tube grubs down.”

“Perish the thought.” Odo leaned close, his face hovering mere inches from Quark’s. “May I?”

Quark tugged him forward by the artificial collar.

“You may,” he replied, before he brought Odo forward for a kiss.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> _I was trying to let it be_  
>  _making up with the other me_  
>  _the wise one who got over you_  
>  _but here we go, again..._  
>   
>  **peter, bjorn, and john** // it's your call (a song that perpetually destroys me with quodo feelings)  
>   
>   
>  \- the flashback occurs between the Facets scenes where Jadzia talks with Curzon in the security office and when Quark's walking down some random corridor. WHAT HAPPENED. here is my conspiracy board red string to explain how we got from a to b, if it were up to me.


	5. it's not just all physical

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Odo asks Quark to run through some old holosuite programs. Odo probably should've expected nothing less when he asked Quark about holosuite programming.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> (one of the few chapters that skirts the M rating, but nothing explicit.)

They emerged from the back room, plans for finding Laas falling into place. Over the hum of the bar’s nightly noises, the everyday rhythm of voices chattering and glasses clinking together, Quark could hear several patrons murmur their approval of Odo’s new appearance.

He had to agree. Quark kept stealing glances at Odo in his new guise, enjoying the novelty of seeing Odo redefined via clothing that contrasted more distinctly against his skin. He never felt so free to look at Odo and keep on looking.

As they passed by the staircase leading to the holosuites, Odo leaned in close and lowered his voice. “Quark,” he said, “I’ve been wanting to ask you something for quite some time now…”

“Yeah?” Quark gazed up at Odo. He was ready to answer anything.

“...Am I in any of your holosuite programs?”

Well, almost anything.

“No,” Quark said slowly. “Why?”

Odo chuckled. “You’ve mentioned being able to create, as I recall, a ‘shapeshifter playmate’ for me before. Were you bluffing?”

“What?” Quark had almost forgotten making that offer. It felt so long ago. “Why bring that up now?”

“It’s fine if you were merely boasting, which I wouldn’t put past you,” Odo teased. His mouth was tantalizingly close to Quark’s ear. “Would programming something like that have been beyond your capabilities?”

“Of course not!” Quark scoffed, indignant at the very notion.

“I see.” Odo’s smile became very self-satisfied. He had apparently found an answer he wanted, but Quark wasn’t sure why he wanted it.

“That doesn’t mean I actually made one,” Quark said. He glanced around at the busy bar, then led Odo over to a table in a more secluded corner. “Why are you asking?”

Odo reached for his hand. He studied their clasped hands for a moment and grazed his thumb over Quark’s knuckles. “I was merely curious.”

“Uh-huh,” Quark said. “Curious about whether you were in any of my holosuite programs, then curious about whether I could program a Changeling in general…”

A slow smile spread across Quark’s face as he started piecing it together.

“Odo,” Quark said kindly, “you don’t have any holo-competition, if that’s what you’re so worried about.”

“I’m not _worried_ , Quark.” Odo continued drawing slow circles on Quark’s knuckles with his thumb. “I was simply wondering whether you might have developed any… outsized expectations of what I might be capable of doing.” He made eye contact. “In a holosuite, or otherwise.”

“Oh.” Quark blinked. “That.”

“Yes. That.” Odo smiled in a distinctly Curzon-like fashion. “Haven’t you ever thought about it?”

“I have,” Quark admitted, “but I don’t have any complete programs.”

“Then you have some incomplete ones, I gather?” Odo held Quark’s gaze. Quark swore the Changeling was smoldering at him, which struck him as incredibly unfair in its persuasiveness.

“Maybe.” Quark was already trying to remember where he had put that isolinear rod.

Odo’s smile grew. “Show me?”

 

* * *

 

“Keep in mind, these are old. And incomplete. And definitely not romantic.” Quark turned to look at Odo as they stood outside the holosuite doors. He wasn't sure what made him more nervous - the intimacy of Odo knowing what he had secretly wanted for years, or the judgement that was sure to follow. “You sure you want to see these?”

“Yes. You’re getting quite flustered,” Odo remarked, “so I’m _very_ curious now.”

Quark huffed. “Okay, fine. We might as well go inside.”

The doors smoothly closed behind them as they entered the holosuite.

“There’s five different programs on the rod,” Quark explained. “Scenarios, really. I wouldn’t consider them full-fledged programs whatsoever. Self-indulgent little things." He became aware he was babbling, but the awareness made it even harder to stop talking. "They just happened to be what I wanted. At that time. Not necessarily what I might want now. And not at all meant to reflect my expectations of you, by the way.”

Odo grunted in acknowledgement. “I understand.”

“I’m only showing them to you because you asked.”

“Right.”

Quark shifted his weight from one foot to the other. “Oh, and one more thing. Things may get a little rough in there. But it’s okay. You don’t need to interfere, unless I ask you to. Which I won’t. But I’m letting you know, just in case.” He coughed, embarrassed. “It’s... sexier if things aren’t always polite.”

“I understand, Quark.” Odo tilted his head with a slight smile. “You’re stalling.”

Quark sighed. “Because it’s embarrassing.”

“How is it embarrassing?”

“You’re seeing my real fantasies, Odo.” Quark felt the blood rise in his cheeks. “Not the typical ones with beautiful scantily-clad women fawning over me, or piles of latinum lining my vaults.” Typical, acceptable Ferengi fantasies that Quark never fretted about deleting from existence so that no one else would know. He bit his lip. “These are incredibly personal.”

Odo’s smile grew almost obnoxiously self-satisfied. “So I’m in your _personal_ fantasies.”

“...Yes.” 

“Quark.” Odo reached out to knead his shoulder gently. “Let’s go through the first program.”

Quark reached up to squeeze Odo’s hand for a moment, then removed it from his shoulder. “You might want to stand off to the side for this.”

The precaution seemed to disturb Odo, but he complied nonetheless. He stepped back and waited.

“Okay.” Quark took a deep breath, then steeled himself. “Computer, begin program Quark-alpha-one.”

The holosuite suddenly rippled, tiles superimposing themselves upwards onto the walls as the light shifted dramatically overhead, slanting sharply and cutting through a suddenly darkened room.

Odo grunted in surprise as he recognized the setting. “We’re in the _bathroom_?” he said with some slight concern.

“Yeah.” Quark felt bashful. Telling Odo about wanting an illicit fuck in the bathroom was far less visceral than Odo actually witnessing it. “I tried to draw from experience for this one.”

Out of the darkness emerged another Odo, dressed in his Terok Nor security uniform, translucent tentacles arching out of his back.

Quark rolled his eyes at the derisive snort he heard next to him.  

“Shh!” Quark hissed, trying not to laugh at Odo’s incredulity. “Get back in the shadows.”

“I see no reason to hide,” Odo commented. “He doesn’t seem to notice me.”

The other Odo continued stalking towards Quark.

“I didn’t exactly think anyone else would be in here when I programmed this, now did I?” Quark told Odo.

A tentacle shot out and slammed into the wall above Quark’s head, vibrations thrumming all the way down his spine. More tentacles sprang forward, attaching themselves to the wall until the other Odo caught up with them, a dark figure exuding dark intent as he loomed over Quark, chest heaving.

“My chest wouldn’t move like that, since I don’t breathe,” the actual Odo pointed out.

Quark sighed. “Thank you, Odo, your criticism is truly invaluable. Now shush, you’ll distract me from progressing through the program. It won't continue without me.”

“Who are you talking to?” the other Odo asked, his voice deepened to an almost ludicrous growl. He roughly grabbed Quark’s arm and Quark could hear Odo take a step forward.

“Nothing! No one.” Quark glanced back at Odo meaningfully. _Step back._

Odo did.

“Peculiar,” the other Odo remarked. “But no matter. I have a better idea for what you could do with that troublesome mouth of yours.”

“Oh really?” Quark grinned. He leaned back against the tiles, eyes falling shut as the other Odo stooped down, grabbed his chin, and tilted his face upwards for a hard kiss.

“Quite a rapid progression,” Odo remarked.

“Again,” Quark hissed out of the corner of his mouth, “I did _not_ plan on anyone else seeing this.”

“Seeing what?” the other Odo murmured into his ear, pulling back slightly.

“Nothing,” Quark quickly replied, smiling at the hologram.

“You talk far too much,” the other Odo rasped. He caressed Quark’s cheek, running his thumb slowly along Quark’s mouth, as if contemplating what to do with it. The light pressure felt like another kiss, teasing and testing, before the hologram thrust his thumb inside Quark's parted lips.

Quark moaned from the back of his throat. He had forgotten about this aspect of the program, the domineering variables he had thrown in for fun. The blood pounded in his ears as Quark adjusted to the intrusion in his mouth, recalling old trysts in the dark and badly behaved hands sliding up his clothing.

Or badly behaved tentacles, as it were - and he gave the other Odo's thumb a languorous lick as the hologram slipped a tentacle underneath his shirt, barely keeping track of what was moving where as he let his eyes flutter shut. 

A thrill shot through Quark as the hologram held his head in place, fingers just short of brushing against his lobes, refusing to give him easy satisfaction. With a frustrated little sigh, Quark sucked hard on the finger in his mouth, thirsting for more contact, only dimly aware of the other Odo's tentacles hiking him up higher against the wall.

When the tentacles paused, Quark opened his eyes again and whined softly, impatient for more. 

He watched the other Odo smirk at him for a moment, fingers caressing his chin as the hologram slid his thumb out of Quark's mouth completely.

All the while, Quark was aware of the actual Odo watching the scene unfold before him, standing there and analyzing Quark's reactions for what they might reveal. The Changeling was remaining quiet for once - perhaps Odo liked what he saw?

The thought lent Quark a heightened sense of urgency as he palmed the hologram's chest and gazed up at the other Odo imploringly. Spurred on, the hologram kicked Quark's legs apart, nestling between his spread thighs to press him further into the wall, echoing years of bad decisions Quark had made while pressed between other walls and bodies. Chuckling lowly, the other Odo dug his fingers into Quark's waist, pulling him closer.

Quark inhaled sharply at the touch, blushing at the possessive weight of the heavy hands resting just above his hips, how it angled their bodies against each other just so. He squirmed to get away from the other Odo's ticklish hands, but the hologram held him down firmly. Breath ragged, Quark hooked a leg behind the other Odo’s back, face hot at the friction between them as he felt the hologram's hips begin to move.

He couldn’t help but whimper loudly - a noise that prompted the actual Odo to react.  

“How far does this program go?” Odo asked curtly. He had an edge to his voice that made Quark grin a little.

“Not much further - this is where I got stuck,” Quark said in between gasps, as the other Odo nuzzled his ear and dry humped him forcefully against the wall. “Do you just… shapeshift a dick through your uniform? Do I ask you to remove your clothes if they’re still a part of you?”

“Well, what do you want?” Odo asked. His voice sounded strained from the effort of not interfering with the scene before him.

“I don’t know,” Quark sighed. “That’s why the program’s unfinished.” He bit off another whimper as the other Odo rocked upward between his clothed legs. He carded his fingers through the hologram’s hair.

“Does that appeal to you?” Odo’s voice was gruff. “That’s all very - rough, it seems.”

“I’d consider it more passionate than rough - ah!” Quark tightened his thighs around the other Odo’s torso as the hologram stroked his ear. He tried desperately to remember if he had to actively end the program or if the other Odo would eventually stop on its own. His thighs began to tremble. “They’re not all like this.”

“I should hope not,” Odo grumbled. “Quark?”

“Mm-hmm?” Quark’s breathing grew labored. Sounds were all he could manage now.

And suddenly Odo was at his side, speaking directly into his ear. “I’ve seen enough. End it?”

“Sure,” Quark gasped. “Computer, end program.”

He landed on his feet as the other Odo and the bathroom disappeared, everything vanishing until it was just him and Odo again.

Odo steadied Quark with an arm. He seemed somewhat disturbed. “Quark, was that what you wanted to happen? Back in the bathroom?”

“Well, not _then_.” Quark gazed up at him, pulse racing, blood thundering in his ears. He leaned back against Odo’s chest heavily. “It’s just a fantasy, Odo.”

Odo grew quiet as he considered this fact. “All right,” he said eventually. “So what’s the second program like?”

 

* * *

 

The holosuite sank into pitch black darkness before neon lights began lining the walls in elegant thin stripes along the ceiling, casting electric blues and deep magentas throughout the room. A bar appeared near Odo and Quark, its counter glowing with internal fluorescence. At the opposite side of the room, spotlights illuminated a raised stage. Dancers appeared onstage in skin-tight layers barely skimming their bodies, moving in time to the music pulsing in the air, as slickly-dressed patrons watched from tables below.

“This is a reverse strip club,” Quark explained as he got behind the bar counter. “I tried to make it more of a crime story - you’re a spy sent to break up a smuggling ring and I’m the dashing bartender you interrogate for intel.” He shrugged. “But it got too complicated.”

Odo seemed much more at ease in this setting, a hint of humor coloring his voice. “Trying to focus too much on the plot, were you?”

“You could say that.” A movement from the side of the room caught Quark’s eye. “Oh, there you are now.”

They watched as the other Odo strode forward to the bar, dressed to the nines in a slim-cut tuxedo, looking impeccably suave and assured.

“Hello, stranger.” Quark rested his elbow on the counter, then rested his chin on his palm. He waggled his browridges flirtatiously. “How may I help you?”

The other Odo ordered his drink with a lazy smile. “A Tranya, bartender. And a little of your time.”

“He’s very… Curzon-esque,” Odo remarked from the sidelines.

“Is he?” Quark asked innocently. “I hadn’t noticed. Now hush.”

Again, there wasn’t much pretense before the other Odo pulled Quark across the bar for a hard kiss.

Quark moaned a little, clutching at the other Odo’s tuxedo jacket.

“Don’t enjoy yourself too much,” Odo grumbled, but he had a slightly pleased note to his voice - Quark suspected he enjoyed the sight of a debonair version of himself kissing Quark senseless. “Why the tuxedo?”

“Hmm?” Quark broke off the kiss. “Garak had one when he went to join Dr. Bashir’s spy program.” He let his eyes fall shut as the other Odo transferred his attention to the underside of Quark’s jawline. “Seemed like a good idea at the time.”

“And you thought it looked good on Garak?”

“Mm-hmm.” Quark shivered slightly as the other Odo sucked at his neck. He couldn’t remember if holograms could leave marks behind.

“Hmph.”

Quark grinned at the sound. He opened his eyes again to gaze back at Odo, who had his arms folded and an irritated expression on his face. “Is that jealousy I hear?”

Odo merely grunted again and glanced away. Quark followed his gaze as he looked at the stage. The background dancers seemed to have caught his attention. “Why are they putting more clothes on?”

“Ferengi thing,” Quark mumbled distractedly. The other Odo had pulled him onto the counter, knocking aside various glasses and bottles in the process. 

“Their outfits do not seem particularly enticing,” Odo remarked.

“I didn’t exactly think too hard about what the background characters would be wearing.” Quark lay prone on the counter as the other Odo climbed over him, digging a knee between his thighs. He let out a sluttish moan as he undulated against the hologram.

Odo glanced back at him, then did a double-take at the sight of Quark pinned down to the bar counter. “That does not look very comfortable.”

Quark didn’t reply. He was too preoccupied with moaning throatily at the rough press of the other Odo’s knee rubbing against his crotch in a manner completely unbecoming of a top-level spy. Or maybe it was completely appropriate. Quark hadn’t thought much about the exact type of spy he wanted this version of Odo to be.

“Now beg for it,” the other Odo demanded, slamming Quark’s wrists down onto the counter. Quark whimpered pitifully at the restraint. He had forgotten about the domineering variables in this program as well.

Odo sighed. He leaned against the counter, arms still folded. “I would never say that, Quark.”

“Uh huh, duly noted,” Quark murmured. He struggled experimentally - the other Odo’s grasp remained strong and unyielding and unreasonably hot. He lay helpless before the hologram, completely at the other Odo’s mercy.

“Quark,” Odo said, edge in his voice again, “how does this end?”

“I honestly don’t remember,” Quark laughed. “Again, I hadn’t figured out the whole Changeling dick situation.”

“So he simply manhandles you onto the counter and has his wicked way with you?”

Quark glanced back at Odo with a wry grin. “Where’d you get ‘wicked’ from? He’s on the side of the law, this one.”

“You’re damned right I am,” the other Odo growled. He grabbed Quark by the chin and turned Quark’s head back around to face him. “Now tell me when the smugglers are arriving.”

“That’s confidential information,” Quark taunted. “You’ll have to do more than that to tease it out of me.”

“Tease it out of you?” The other Odo loosened his grip to trace unintelligible shapes on the inside of one of Quark’s wrists. “Or shall I just fuck the information out of you instead?”

“Quark!” Odo sounded scandalized. “I have _never_ stooped to such underhanded means of interrogation!”

Quark sighed. He stared up at the ceiling, then squirmed his way out of the other Odo’s grasp, neatly rolling off the counter until he was back on his feet. “Computer, end program.”

The club vanished, leaving only an indignant former Constable and an exasperated little bartender in its wake.

“Odo,” Quark said. “I don’t think you really want to see these.”

The Changeling frowned. “No, I do.”

“But you keep…” Quark exhaled sharply. How could he explain himself? “Look, I’m sharing these with you because you _asked_ me to, not because I wanted an editor for my ancient holosuite dreams.” He cocked his head, listening for Odo’s goo noises. He frowned. “What’s wrong?”

“Nothing’s wrong.”

“I can tell, Odo. What is it?”

Odo unfolded his arms. He walked forward until he stood in front of Quark, then gently placed his hands on Quark’s shoulders.

“Quark, I’m upset because I don’t agree with how I’m portrayed in your fantasies. I don’t want to be rough with you. I don’t want to -” and his mouth twisted into a rueful smile - “fuck any information out of you. It’s been more disturbing than I thought it would to see, essentially, myself being all these things I didn’t want to be.”

“Oh.” Quark blinked. “Fair enough.” Quark glanced down at himself. His clothes were still rumpled from the hologram’s attentions. He readjusted his clothing, smoothing out the wrinkles before glancing back up at Odo. “But again, these are only just fantasies - they’re not what I really think of you. This one was just for fun.”

“Hmm.” Odo looked thoughtful. “So what happens in the next program?”

 

* * *

 

The walls morphed into a cave. It was bitterly cold.

Odo glanced around in amazement. “You recreated the ice planet?”

“Not quite as freezing,” Quark explained. “I figured maybe this would be easier to follow through. You as a solid, us sharing the blanket together, sex for warmth.”

“...Sex for warmth?”

“Classic narrative trope. Two are better than one for retaining and generating body heat.” Quark turned back to look at Odo. “Survival sex, literally.”

“I hadn’t thought of that before,” Odo said honestly. He seemed less offended than simply surprised by the idea.

Quark stifled a delighted chortle. “How innocent,” he commented. “Now shush, here you come.”

The other Odo appeared at the mouth of the cave, somewhat dirt-stained, with his solid hair mussed and falling across his eyes. He wasted no time in declaring: “Quark, we need to fuck.”

At this, the actual Odo gave Quark a sidelong glance.

Quark held up a hand before the Changeling could say anything. He grinned sheepishly. “I know, I know.”

“It’s only a fantasy,” Odo muttered to himself, sounding eerily like a Bajoran at prayer. “It’s only a fantasy.”

They watched the other Odo crawl into the cave and unfasten his thermal jacket. He didn’t seem to notice that Quark wasn’t wearing the thermal trousers. He also didn’t question why the blanket lay on the floor of the cave.

Quark sat down on the blanket. He looked up expectantly at the other Odo with a cocky grin. “So fuck me,” Quark said.

The other Odo stared at him for a moment before pinning Quark down to the ground, almost knocking the wind out of him as they both fell on top of the blanket, limbs tangled up in each other, thermal jacket covering them both like a shield against the outside.

Eyes falling shut, Quark’s breath caught in his throat as the other Odo caressed the back of his neck before bringing their mouths together. Their kiss had a desperate, ravenous quality to it that wasn’t present in the other scenarios he had programmed. The other Odo devoured Quark's soft little cries of astonishment, yet he also cradled Quark's face almost reverently, as if afraid it might break.

Memories flickered in and out of his mind as Quark recalled the context. He had programmed this scenario after their ascent in a paltry attempt to grasp something life-affirming out of their ordeal on the planet. He wanted to see Odo lose that smug composure in a safer context, take that glimpse of feral rawness and transfer it somewhere more sheltered. So he tilted the personality variables towards animalistic hunger. And, to be honest with himself, he increased the affection quotient as well.

Odo sat down next to the two writhing figures on the blanket. “This seems even less comfortable than the previous two scenarios.”

“You’re right,” Quark gasped out. “It’s not comfortable. But I couldn’t exactly turn the floor into a carpet - it’d ruin the atmosphere.”

“The atmosphere? You’re about to have sex on a rock.” Odo chuckled. “How much more ruined can the atmosphere get?”

Quark was about to retort with something devastatingly witty when the other Odo began kissing along the outside of his ear, lightly skimming the helix’s border.

His broken moan obscured any reply Odo might have made. He forgot himself for a moment, burrowing against the other Odo desperately.

“Fuck,” Quark whimpered, arching against the steady grind of the hologram’s hips, sensation overload tingling in his lobes. “Oh, _fuck_ me, please, _please_ -” 

“With pleasure,” growled the other Odo. He flipped Quark over as easily as a strip of latinum passing from one hand to the other, until Quark lay on his stomach, hips raised, knees digging into the dirt floor.

Quark’s eyes widened as he suddenly recalled how far this particular program went. Even without any further input, the holographic Odo was built to exhaust Quark until he was a blissed-out mess.

(Well, he  _had_ wanted Odo to take more initiative back then.) 

A flicker of doubt hovered at the edge of his mind, even as the other Odo leaned down to kiss the back of his neck, lips lingering hotly on his skin. 

Quark buried his face in his forearms to stifle a cry as the hologram nuzzled his ear. Warmth pooled in his stomach. His entire body shook, and Quark suspected he might have overestimated his resilience for the day - what was he thinking, agreeing to run all these programs in a row? - when he heard a low chuckle.

“Sensitive, aren’t you,” murmured the other Odo. His hands ran down Quark's sides, trailing towards his waist. “We haven’t even gotten to the good part yet.”

The blanket rubbed roughly against his cheek as the other Odo pulled him closer. Even through multiple layers of clothing, Quark could feel the hologram grow hard behind him. The familiar pressure, simple and filthy, teased out a soft noise from Quark.

Normally, he would have gone through with it.

He vaguely remembered deliberately programming this scenario to a type of completion. He knew he had the skill to create a fully functional hologram. The limitations of a solid-bodied Odo had been much easier to manipulate than the seemingly-infinite possibilities of Odo’s Changeling self.

Unbidden, Quark also recalled how much Odo had hated his solid body, and how much of a nightmare their tortuous ascent had been. He hadn't worried about taking Odo's feelings into account before, but now he couldn't stop.

He wondered what Odo was thinking, watching Quark about to get ravished by a ghost of his worst possible existence.

It suddenly didn’t seem that enticing anymore.

“Computer,” Quark groaned into the blanket. “End program.”

He lay there, prostrate on the ground, panting heavily.

After a moment, he glanced up at Odo, who was staring at him, utterly transfixed.

“What?” Quark asked. He felt utterly wrecked. And it was mostly emotionally, for once.

Odo seemed speechless. He took a moment to gather his thoughts. Eventually, he said, “I hate to admit this, Quark, but I think I enjoyed that. A little.”

“You did?” Quark sat up, pleased. “What’d you like about it?”

“I’m not sure.” Odo moved over to sit next to him. “The situation was ludicrous, of course, but I liked that I was... nicer to you. Less rough.”

“Nicer? Huh.” Quark digested this new information. He glanced back at Odo with a smile. “And you didn’t want me to stop.”

“I didn’t say that.” Odo looked away, suppressing the smile twitching at the corners of his mouth.

Quark laughed. He nudged Odo with his arm. “If it helps, you’re nicer in the rest of these, too.”

“That does help," Odo said. “Only two left, right? Show me the next.”

 

* * *

 

They were on a beach. The two setting suns heralded the beginning of golden hour, coloring the sky in washes of coral and flame. Waves lapped gently at the shore. It looked like paradise.

“Surprisingly not sordid,” Odo remarked, taking in the serene beauty of it all. “Where are we?”

“Risa,” said Quark with satisfaction. He inclined his head over to a lounge area further away from the shore and began walking.

“...Risa?” Odo nevertheless followed his lead.

“What’s wrong with Risa?” Quark glanced back at Odo. “There’s an ocean, the weather’s mild - it’s sort of like the less gooey version of your home planet, isn’t it?”

Odo coughed. “It’s _Risa_ , Quark.” When the Ferengi continued to look puzzled, Odo clarified, “Risa? The _pleasure_ planet.”

“What’s wrong with that?” Quark scrutinized Odo’s dismayed face for a moment, then he gave the Changeling a sly grin. “Odo, I hate to break it to you, but even Risa isn’t ‘sordid’ all the time. Were you expecting to see people fucking all over the beach or something?”

“Quark, please.”

“First of all,” Quark said fondly, “they don’t, you prude. Secondly, even if they did, that would’ve been way too much detail to program. At least not without some significant compensation for my efforts.”

Odo seemed intrigued by Quark’s last statement as they continued their walk up the beach. The pale sand gently gave way underneath their feet. “I take it you’ve written programs for hire before?”

“A respectable hustle on the side. All under pseudonym, of course.”

“Of course. You wouldn’t want any disgruntled customers hassling you unsolicited,” Odo teased.

Quark responded with an eyeroll and a smile. “Aren’t _you_ in a good mood. I should take you to the real Risa sometime. You might enjoy the change of scenery.”

“Perhaps.” Odo sounded amenable to the idea.

They caught sight of the other Odo waiting for Quark at one of the lounge chairs.

They stopped walking.

“Oh,” said Quark bashfully, cheeks coloring. “Forgot about that.”

After a long pause, Odo remarked, “I’m not sure if I like the metallic look.”

Quark agreed. “Me either, but it was all I could think of at the time. The Bajoran security uniform would be out of place on Risa.”

“Yes, I see.”

They continued to scrutinize the other Odo in the distance. The hologram wore a dazzlingly shimmering set of latinum-colored beachwear. Its silvery sheen was truly blinding.

“We don’t have to go through with this one,” Quark said.

“Fine by me,” Odo agreed. “Computer, remove Odo.”

The metallic-clad apparition vanished.

“You’re not ending the program?” Quark asked.

Odo turned back to look at the ocean, shining clear and clean off in the distance. The simulated breeze ruffled his hair. He seemed at peace. “It’s nice. You’re right - it does remind me of my people’s home planet.”

The phrasing seemed off to Quark. He tilted his head. “Don’t you mean your home?”

“My home planet.” Odo glanced back at Quark. “It was my home, and it will be my home again, someday. But right now - wherever we are - my home is with you.”

“Oh.” Quark blinked hard. It was all starting to feel more romantic than he had anticipated.

Odo smiled. “I’d like to stay here a little while longer, if you don’t mind.”

“I don’t,” Quark replied.

They sat down on the beach and gazed out at the twin setting suns.

 

* * *

 

“Well, here’s the last one,” Quark said. “Welcome to my holo-quarters.”

“Rather spartan,” Odo commented as he looked around. The room lacked all the decorations and objects that would normally help identify it as part of Quark’s quarters. There was barely anything in the room besides Quark’s bed. “Where are all your things?”

Quark shrugged. “I figured you’d get distracted by looking for contraband.”

Odo smiled. “Why, do you have any?”

“No, Odo, I’m not dumb enough to keep it in my quarters.”

“So you do have places you keep it. Just not in your quarters.” A flicker of the old constable shone through. “Or perhaps that’s exactly what you’d say to keep me off the trail.”

“What do you care?” Quark smiled back, waggling his head. “I thought you weren’t going to be the constable anymore.”

“Doesn’t mean I can’t still care about what you do, even if it’s in an unofficial capacity.”

Quark’s face fell. “You wouldn’t tell Ro, would you? Not that she doesn’t already know a lot about me, but still.”

Odo continued to smile.

“Odo!”

“What? I’m merely smiling.”

Quark huffed. “Fine.”

Odo looked around. “Where’s the other me?”

Quark walked over to the bed and lay down. He watched Odo lean against the wall in the corner. “The program doesn’t really start until I’m on the bed. You’ll see.”

Right after Quark finished talking, the other Odo appeared at his doorway. He looked as he always used to - tan Bajoran security uniform, no metallic outfit, no thermal jacket, no tuxedo, and nothing resembling his Terok Nor days.

He walked over to the bed without a word. He didn’t stalk or stride forward. It was all very ordinary.

Quark gazed up at the hologram, blushing slightly. He supposed if he were honest with himself, he had been hoping Odo wouldn’t let things go this far. It wasn't even that detailed a program - just something quick he had tossed together when Odo had left the station. His simplest fantasy of all.

The other Odo climbed into bed with him, and Quark closed his eyes.

They kissed tenderly.

Quark reached up to touch the other Odo’s face and bring it even closer. The hologram leaned into his touch, then reached up to lay his hand over Quark’s.

Sighing into the kiss, Quark nuzzled the other Odo’s nose and received a fond nuzzle in return. It was all very sweet.

It occurred to Quark that he hadn’t heard another word from the actual Odo ever since the program started.

He broke away to glance over at Odo, who was still leaning against the wall. The Changeling looked contemplative as he watched his holographic alternate bask Quark in kiss after tender kiss. His eyes flicked over to meet Quark’s.

They held each other’s gaze.

Abruptly, Odo said, “Computer, remove Odo.”

The hologram on Quark’s bed disappeared, and Quark sat up, breathing heavily.

“Quark?” Odo unfolded his arms. He stopped leaning on the wall.

“Yes, Odo?”

Odo walked over to the bed. “You were right earlier.”

“I was?” Quark smiled as Odo climbed into the bed with him. “About what?”

“That _was_ jealousy you heard.” Odo pulled Quark closer until his body was flush against Quark’s side. He tucked his chin onto Quark’s shoulder and made a soft sound. “Just the thought of anyone else… Well.”

Quark rolled over until they faced each other. “Well.”

“How far does the final program go?”

“Not far.” Quark bit his lip. “That was pretty much it.”

“That’s it?”

“Don’t sound so shocked,” Quark grinned. “Like I said when we started, these were my real fantasies.”

“I seem to recall you mentioning they definitely weren’t romantic, either.”

Quark shrugged in Odo’s arms. He hadn't thought his naked emotional vulnerability could be romantic. “Guess I was wrong about that last one.”

“I suppose you were,” Odo said. He ran a finger along Quark’s cheekbone, then rested his hand on the side of Quark’s face.

“What can I say?” Quark leaned into the touch, then settled his hand on top of Odo’s. His holograms could never substitute for the real thing. “You inspire me.”

Odo stared at him for a moment. “You really have been reading my novels while I was away."

Quark was about to protest when he saw Odo break into a teasing smile.

“That reminds me, Morn has your Bajoran ‘literature,’” Quark sighed. “There were too many padds for anyone else to take them and Ro refused to keep them in the security office. Which, by the way, is a surprisingly clever storage location - I should’ve tried to take advantage of that while you were gone.”

“I’ll have to give my thanks to Morn,” Odo acknowledged.

“And me,” Quark added, not entirely willing to let Morn take all the credit. “I suggested it.”

“Yes,” Odo said. “I have you to thank.” And he drew Quark in for a kiss.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> _it's not just all physical_  
>  _I'm the type who won't get oh so critical_  
>  _so, let's make things physical_  
>  _I won't treat you like you're oh so typical..._  
>   
>  **tegan and sara** // closer  
>   
>   
>  \- quark probably wouldn't object to seeing odo in a tux again though. 
> 
> \- p.s. Morn has definitely read all of Odo's Bajoran literature at this point. he has Opinions.


	6. you are my medicine when you're close to me

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Quark's not the only one who was waiting for Odo's return. He recalls how his semblance of friendship with Kira developed over time. Various forms of healing occur. On Koralis III, he and Odo begin to reach another understanding.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> it's the kira chapter! and it's long, but it's segmented into many short stories. heed no nightly noises, fear no giant word count

Quark supposed he and Odo would have to leave the holosuite eventually.

For one thing, they needed to make room for the other reservations that day.

For another, Laas was out there somewhere, waiting for a healing that likely hadn’t come yet.

If Odo hadn’t remembered Laas until recently, Quark doubted anyone else in the Link had thought of Laas either.

Like it or not - and Quark didn’t particularly think he liked it - he couldn’t just let Laas wither away and die. Not if he could actually do anything about it.

More than anyone else, he knew how hard it was to wait for Odo.

Almost anyone, at least.

 

* * *

  

The first month after Odo’s departure seemed to fly by as Kira and Quark returned to their normal lives on the station.

There were people to manage, ships to help, and an endless stream of visitors, always.

They figured that healing the Great Link couldn’t possibly take very long.

Odo would be back before they knew it, Kira had told Quark.

All they had to do was wait.

*

The second month passed, and they tried not to worry when there was still no word from Odo.

Kira had told Quark all about seeing Odo off and watching him disappear into the ocean of his people. All she could see was an ocean with no end. She had no idea how vast it truly was. Maybe no one but a Changeling could ever know. Maybe Odo was still busy healing his people.

Or maybe the healing had already completed, Quark suggested, but Odo was helping his people make amends. After all, the Dominion did so many terrible things during the War, and if anyone could help the Link rehabilitate their image, it’d be Odo. That kind of rehabilitation would take time, but it certainly couldn’t take place solely in the Gamma Quadrant.

Odo would have to make his way through the other side of the wormhole eventually.

Any day now, Quark figured.

*

The third month passed by without any news of Odo or the Link.

Quark had never been more bored.

His activities under the table hadn’t subsided one bit, but it was almost too easy to conduct his schemes lately. Or less thrilling, in any case, now that he no longer risked getting caught by an adversary who could appear anywhere as anything.

He hadn’t realized how much of an adrenaline rush Odo’s surveillance had been. Try as he might, Quark had yet to find an adequate substitute for the thrill of wondering whether an innocuous bottle or other ordinary item was secretly Odo in disguise.

The Constable always did keep him guessing.

Not that Kira wasn’t a perfectly competent chief of security as well - more than competent, even - but it just wasn’t the same.

There was no tingle in his lobes whenever he caught sight of Kira making her rounds around the Promenade.

Sure, the Colonel was easy on the eyes, but she was no Odo - though sometimes it seemed like she was trying to be.

It was strange seeing Kira visit the bar every day, even if it was only once a day, and even if it was only because she knew Odo had made a point of investigating Quark as part of his daily routine.

“You don’t have to keep visiting me everyday,” Quark had informed her. “I appreciate what you’re doing, Colonel, but it’s unnecessary.”

“Why, what am I doing?” Kira asked innocently. “I’m just making my usual rounds, Quark.”

“Uh-huh.” Quark polished a glass. “If you have so much free time for investigating a humble bartender, I suppose you wouldn’t mind substituting one of your rounds with lunch?”

“Lunch?” Kira looked surprised. “Why?”

“C’mon, Colonel. It’d be great for business, being known as _the_ lunch spot for the commanding officer of Deep Space Nine.”

Off Kira’s bemused expression, he sighed and dialed down the sales pitch.

“Besides,” Quark added, “Ezri’s been off the station for days visiting the Trill homeworld, Morn’s out on yet another trading mission, and I’m positively bored to death, languishing here on my lonesome.”

“You look fine to me,” Kira said with a smile. “Healthiest ghost I’ve ever seen.”

“Ha ha.” Quark rolled his eyes. He couldn’t help it.

He also couldn’t help comparing Kira to Odo, yet again. Odo would’ve had more of a sardonic tone, drawing out his words with that smug Changeling superiority he had hated so much. The Constable probably would’ve also thrown in a few words about his inability to eat, drink, or indulge in any typical humanoid behavior.

“Well,” Quark said, shrugging, “if you ever change your mind, this ghost would be _honored_ by your presence at lunch. Never hurts to learn more about the current chief of security, anyway.”

“I’m not the current chief of security,” Kira corrected.

"You're not? Then who is?”

“I don’t know,” Kira sighed, somewhat dejected. “We’ve been trying to find someone. It’d be better to wait for the most qualified candidate, right?”

When they had first met all those years ago, Quark had loved the absence of a chief of security. He had gotten so much done without a lurking interference dogging his steps and easily made back the money he had spent acquiring the bar. He had had visions of uninterrupted profits and a small moon easily within his grasp.

And then Odo entered the picture, and his life had been interrupted ever since.

“Right," Quark said. "They’d have some big gooey shoes to fill.”

She snorted. “A beautiful image, Quark.”

They both grew quiet.

“I’ll think about it,” Kira said, and Quark blinked.

“Huh?”

“Lunch, Quark.”

“Really?” Quark grinned. Odo never did seem to think about it. He wondered what else the Changeling wasn’t thinking about these days.

“Really,” Kira said. She got up to leave the bar. “I’ll see you around.”

*

Several more months passed.

Without knowing quite how it started, they found themselves getting together for a drink every once in a while. They weren’t drinking buddies by any means, but they were marginally more affable than they used to be.

He remembered never believing Jadzia when she said Kira could be fun.

He wished she could see them now, chatting away together at the bar, glasses in hand.

Though he supposed he and Kira didn’t always have _fun_ conversations...

Quark swirled his glass around, studying the liquid inside with a woozy sort of concentration, and asked, “You ever consider the idea that Odo could split himself into multiple Odos?”

Kira raised an eyebrow. “What do you mean?”

“The Link is a single huge ocean, right? But it’s full of people. The drop becomes the ocean, the ocean becomes the drop.” He eyed his glass thoughtfully. “Well, what if the drop could become two drops? Or three?”

“Huh.” Kira nodded and kept nodding. “Splitting a consciousness into more than one entity. Multiples... of the _same person_.”

“Exactly!” Quark raised his glass in salute. “Let’s say, one Odo for you, and one for the Link.”

She smiled as she looked at Quark. “One Odo for you as well.”

Quark glanced away. He took another sip of his drink.

A long sip.

*

More months passed, and they started getting used to Odo’s absence.

It didn’t stop hurting, but the familiarity helped mute the hurt somewhat.

They were defending the station during another foolhardy attempt to take it over, and Kira had deputized Quark and outfitted him with a phaser.

“Odo never let me have a phaser,” he said in delight, examining the weapon with glee. “Not for long, anyway.”

Kira rolled her eyes. “It’s not for fun, Quark.”

She didn’t comment on his mention of Odo. He supposed that was a good sign - they could talk about him normally again. As normally as they could ever talk about him, at least.

“I _know_ it’s not for fun -” His eyes widened. “Colonel, behind you!”

Kira whirled around and stunned an oncoming Finnean before he could get any closer.

The intruder crumpled to the ground, and Quark tensed, phaser in hand, ready to shoot him again if necessary.

Kira crouched down. “He’s knocked out.” She quickly removed the Finnean’s weapon and put him in cuffs. “Good eye, Quark.”

“Ear, really.” Quark’s heart raced. “He was in the shadows. I didn’t see him until he almost got you.”

“He didn’t get me.” Kira grinned up at him. “Good ear, then. Thanks, Quark.”

“Don’t mention it. Odo wouldn’t let me hear the end of it if I let anything happen to you.”

She laughed. “Funny, I was thinking the same thing about you.”

“Oh." Quark supposed that made more sense.

“Hey,” Kira said, still crouched on the floor, looking up. “We should take him to a holding cell. Help me?”

He glanced back at the unconscious Finnean. “Yeah, sure.”

They carried the prisoner to the brig in silence.

*

More months passed. Ten, to be exact.

Quark had kept count long after Kira stopped counting.

During one of their weekly calls, he told Rom, “If only he had said something. Then I’d know if I should keep waiting or not, right?”

“Maybe it’s better this way,” Rom suggested.

“What are you talking about?”

“Well…” Rom got that apologetic tone he’d always get whenever he was about to say something he knew Quark wouldn’t like. “What if he said something that would’ve replaced all your good feelings about him with bad ones?”

Quark was almost afraid to ask. “Such as...?”

“Like... what if he said you shouldn’t wait, because it’s goodbye _forever_ and he never ever ever -”

“I get it, Rom -”

“ - Ever wanted to come back?” Rom finished. “Or that he’d always love Kira, and _only_ Kira? Orrrrr-”

“ _Okay_ , okay, I get it, Rom.” Quark felt as if he had eaten a bad batch of tube grubs. Kira was almost his friend now. It didn’t feel right to feel jealous of her anymore. “You don’t have to keep coming up with examples.”

“...Sorry, brother.”

Quark sighed. Maybe it really was better that Odo never said goodbye to him.

“You know what you need?” Rom said brightly.

“No, what?”

“A trip to Ferenginar!”

Quark smiled in spite of himself. “Why?”

“It’s been a while since you last saw Moogie, aaand you haven’t even returned since I became the new Grand Nagus, aaaaaand…” Rom’s voice grew calmer, quieter. “I miss you, brother.”

“Yeah?” Quark rubbed at the corner of his eye. Dust must have gotten in the room somehow. “I miss you, too.”

Quark knew he owed Rom a visit. He’d been putting it off, just in case Odo might return while he was away.

“Maybe in another month,” he said.

*

Another month passed, and Quark finally visited Ferenginar.

Kira wanted to hear all about it when he returned to the station - how Rom and Leeta were, what the reforms were like, whether Ishka was still thoroughly embarrassing Quark with her financial success.

They ended up carrying their discussion over into lunch, sitting next to each other at the counter, when an old Markalian acquaintance of Quark’s started accosting him.

Day-drunk and emboldened, the Markalian had gloated about Odo’s departure. A little too much. Regana Tosh had never forgotten the Constable who had put him in prison all those years ago.

Quark glanced over at Kira. He raised his browridges twice before turning back to the Markalian.

Kira slipped out.

In the distance, beyond any normal humanoid hearing - but not out of the range of a Ferengi - Quark could hear Kira call for backup.

He stalled Regana long enough, kept him talking, let the Markalian needle him about the loss of -

“Odo’s not lost,” Quark couldn’t help correcting. “He’s busy saving his people out in the Gamma Quadrant.”

“Of _course_ he is,” Regana sneered. “He hasn’t abandoned you in the slightest. And it’s been over a year now?”

Quark paused. “Yeah. It _has_ been a year.”

“I don’t believe your shapeshifter’s coming back, Quark.”

“He’s not my shapeshifter.”

“I know you wish he would be.” The Markalian teetered slightly under the influence of one too many ales. His breath stank in Quark’s face. “And now that he’s gone, what’s to stop me from collecting _interest_ on our previous transaction?”

Quark tensed and leaned away from the other man. “I don’t owe you any interest.”

Regana laughed. “Your shapeshifter’s _gone,_ Quark! Much like the latinum you had promised me for those Tallonian crystals. Put that Ferengi mind of yours to good use and calculate how much you owe me now.”

During their conversation, Quark could hear Kira slip back into the seat next to him. The Markalian had glanced at Kira without comment, looking as disinterested as he had when Broik walked past them with a tray of drinks.

Barely - just barely - Quark could hear the sound of Kira’s hand rest on the phaser at her hip.

Regana didn’t seem to notice. “I’m waiting, Quark. There’s no one left to protect you.”

“I can protect myself,” Quark said lightly. “With a little help, of course.”

The Markalian sniffed. He glanced back at Kira again, then looked disdainfully back at the Ferengi. “Don’t waste my time. What, you’re going to have this measly Bajoran _woman_ help you?”

Quark grinned, looking forward to Kira’s inevitable sharp retort. Something snappy and witty and -

Suddenly a phaser beam shot past his ear and knocked the Markalian out, sending the other man crashing to the floor of the bar.

The beam left a sizzling feeling in the air.

Quark screeched.

“You almost got my _ear_ , Colonel!”

“Sorry, Quark.” Kira grinned. She rubbed the back of her neck with her phaser hand. “Looked like he was reaching for a weapon.”

Quark stared at her. He hadn’t heard or seen any such thing from the now-unconscious Regana.

She shrugged.

“Thanks,” Quark said eventually. He cracked a smile. “Who am I to argue with the interim chief of security?”

The deputies swarmed in. Much to Quark’s terror, and then his relief, he saw them remove a number of blades and other faint-inducing instruments from Regana’s person.  

Quark looked back at Kira. “But seriously, Colonel - has it really been a year without an official chief of security here?”

“Yep,” Kira replied, glancing down at the stunned alien at her feet. “Guess I’d better start looking for one.”

“Huh. What happened to interviewing potential candidates?”

Kira shrugged again. “Been busy.”

They watched the deputies apprehend the Markalian, then turned to look back at each other.

Somehow it was the funniest thing that had happened all month.

Laughter bubbled inside of Quark until it burst out of him, loud and bright and merry until Kira couldn’t help joining him in response.

They laughed and kept laughing as the deputies took the Markalian away to the brig.  

*

Quark hoped Colonel Kira would find a replacement for Odo soon, because this deputy thing was starting to get old.

There were only so many weapons trainings a bartender could handle without wondering if he was even really a bartender anymore, even if the trainings did come in handy - and that was more often than he liked.

They were back to back in the midst of defending the station, Quark with disruptor pistol in hand, Kira with her phaser, both of them shooting away -

“Where’d you get a disruptor pistol?” Kira asked in between breaths.

“A certain Nagus owed his big brother a new pistol after using parts of the old one to fix the replicators,” Quark explained, disabling an intruder who had aimed at Kira from the balcony.

“ _What_? Which replicators?”

“I’ll find out after we’re done saving the station, Colonel!”

He could hear Kira laugh behind him. “Good man, Quark. You speak with Rom lately?”

“Yeah, every week - upper pylon to your right!”

She fired and caught another intruder. “You’re becoming quite the deputy.”

“Under _incredible_ protest, Colonel -”

“I know, I know, I really do need to find a new Chief of Security -”

She paused to snipe another intruder. Quark could hear most people before they got too close, but Kira’s aim was more accurate.

He couldn’t help wondering if Odo ever thought about the advantages Quark’s hearing could provide. Odo had never asked him for help unless it was out of true desperation - nothing particularly strategic.

Besides, Odo was perfectly capable of shapeshifting Ferengi ears on his own. He just never tried again after the one time he had done so in front of Quark.

 

*

 

It was shortly after Dr. Mora’s first visit to the station.

Odo had wandered into the bar during a quiet hour, stalking up to the counter with a small smile on his face.

“Constable,” Quark acknowledged. “Seen your dad off, then?”

The Changeling harrumphed. “Dr. Mora is not my father figure, Quark. But yes, he has left the station.”

“What a pity,” Quark replied. “Would’ve been nice to get to know him better.”

Odo folded his arms. “Whatever first impression he may have given you was likely a misleading one. But he does seem to have remorse for his past transgressions, so I suppose that’s a start.”

Something about the Changeling’s tone made Quark set down the glass he had been polishing.

“Transgressions?” Quark asked.

“You don’t need to know.” Odo tightened his folded arms. “Sorry I mentioned it. Anyway -”

“Hey, wait, Odo.” Quark blinked. The unmistakable sound of gooey angst kept nagging at his mind. “I don’t know much about labs besides the ones in my holonovel settings - and I’m mostly certain that’s not at all what the Bajoran Center for Science was like - but I do know that non-Ferengi scientists are so ignorant sometimes, so if…”

Odo gave him an impatient grunt. “What’s your point, Quark?”

“My _point,_ ” Quark continued, biting back the urge to add a note about being rudely interrupted when he was trying to be sympathetic to the dumb Changeling, “is that…”

He sighed, thinking about some of the less appetizing holonovels he had reviewed before deciding not to purchase them.

“Odo, if Dr. Mora’s transgressions involved… if he _hurt_ you at that research center on Bajor - well, I’m sorry.”

Frowning, Odo stared at him. “Why would you be sorry?”

“It’s a thing that humanoids say. I don’t know.” Quark folded his arms as well, until he and Odo were mirroring each other’s stance.

The gesture made Odo smile slightly again. “Well. Apology accepted, even though it’s unnecessary.”

“You ever talk with anyone about it?” Quark raised his browridges. “Not me, of course, but like… the Bajoran authorities or something?”

Odo shook his head. “No, Quark.”

He waited for Odo to elaborate further, but the Changeling went silent, and Quark sensed he had prompted all the information Odo felt like volunteering for the day.

“Well, figured I’d mention it. You know, because it’s a bartender’s duty to remind patrons about...” Quark shrugged. There was no such duty. “Whatever. Why’d you come into the bar just now? Part of your usual rounds?”

“Somewhat.” That slight smile returned to Odo’s face. “I have something to show you.”

“Oh yeah? Is it a tangible something?” Quark’s eyes lit up. “Some contraband you need help identifying?”

“No, Quark.” Odo tilted his head. “As Dr. Mora so kindly pointed out to me recently - and he can be kind, surprising as that has been - I still have some trouble with ears.”

Quark scrutinized Odo’s ears, but they looked as unfinished as ever.

“So, I took it upon myself to practice my ear-shapeshifting. Care to see?”

Odo sat down in a barstool and leaned an elbow on the counter.

Something about the Changeling’s smile unnerved Quark. He wasn’t sure whether he wanted to get closer or further away.

“Uh, sure,” he said.

Quark’s eyes widened as Odo’s ears began to morph and expand, shifting and growing until they finally solidified into a flawless beige set of prominent Ferengi lobes.

The sight of Odo’s smirking face, framed by two giant ears, left Quark speechless.

It _had_ to be illegal somehow. Odo _had_ to be violating over a dozen Ferengi customs at once with that trick.

Heat spread outwards from Quark’s collar throughout his cheeks as he realized Odo’s newly shapeshifted ears looked almost exactly like his own - just larger.

He fainted.

*

Odo apologized immediately after Quark regained consciousness in the Infirmary.

“I truly am sorry, Quark. I thought it would be amusing.”

“For you, I guess.” Quark blushed at the memory. He was glad to see the Constable’s ears had returned to their normal, plain, distinctly un-Ferengi size. “Ferengi treat ears a little differently than most other humanoids, Odo.”

“Yes. I should’ve realized.” The Changeling looked uncomfortable. “I won’t try that again.”

“Well, don’t stop practicing shapeshifting on my account,” Quark said. He grinned. “In the privacy of your own quarters, that is. Not sure if you want people to see you walking around like you’re part Ferengi.”

Odo snorted. “A terrifying sight for all, I’d imagine.”

“Besides, we wouldn’t want people getting the idea you have better lobes for business than I do. How’d you get them so accurate, anyway?”

The Changeling’s mouth twitched. “I have to go, Quark.”

He stepped away from Quark’s bedside, turned around, and headed towards the exit.

“Wait, Odo!” Quark scrambled to get out of the bio-bed. “Was it because you _admired_ my ears, Constable? Observed them _closely_ all this time, hmm?”

Odo sped up his pace and called over his shoulder, “I’m too busy for your inane questions, Quark!”

He trotted after the Changeling, but Odo was walking away too quickly for him to keep up, so he stopped at the doorway to the Infirmary.

“Admit it, Odo,” Quark called out. “You _like_ my ears, don’t you? They’re certainly a lot more interesting than a Bajoran’s! If you need a closer look at my magnificent lobes, you know where to find me!”

Quark ignored the stares of the startled passersby as he waited for Odo’s reply.

Off in the distance, he could hear a gruff chuckle as the Constable’s footsteps faded away…

 

*

 

At first, Quark had been thrilled when Colonel Kira finally found a new chief of security.

Finally! No more surprise trainings, no more deputizing, no more feeling like his stomach had transported out of his body at the thought that one slip-up from him might cost Kira’s life.

Finally, someone else could help Kira with security duties, and what a someone.

Lieutenant Ro had been in the Resistance. She had the competency and the attitude for the job, she was someone the whole station could count on, and -

He felt that old tingle in his lobes whenever he saw her walk by.

Shit.

He couldn’t do this again.

He couldn’t invest so much in another sardonic, dry, and utterly fascinating security officer again.

So he was more surprised than anyone else when Ro actually seemed to like him back.

Not obviously, not right away.

And he knew it wouldn’t last. It couldn’t possibly last. They weren’t meant for each other like -

Not that he had thought he and Odo were _meant_ for each other, but -

*

He had polished off an entire bottle of midnight blue Romulan Ale after Kira had told him that Odo had singled him out as someone the Changeling would miss.

_Even Quark._

That had to mean something, didn’t it?

*

He wasn’t sure if he was more in love with Ro for who she really was, or who she reminded him of, and that thought plagued him worse than any nightmare he had about Odo leaving his life for good.

What good was moving on from Odo if his memory still haunted Quark’s dreams?

 

* * *

 

Back in the holosuite, Quark buried his face in Odo’s chest and sighed.

“You don’t know how hard it is to wait for you,” Quark said in a small voice.

The Changeling’s arms tightened around him.

“I’m sorry,” Odo said softly.

Quark used to dream of this sort of thing - Odo holding him, Odo being full of remorse, Odo giving him affection and every undivided fraction of his attention.

He pulled away just enough to lean up and give Odo a quick, affectionate kiss.

“It’s fine. You don’t owe me any more apologies,” Quark told him.

He grinned a little at the smile Odo gave him in response.

“But we can’t make Laas wait any longer,” Quark said, sitting up. “Come on - let’s go see the Colonel.”

 

* * *

 

Explaining their plan to Kira went far more smoothly than Quark anticipated.

He and Odo sat next to each other in Kira's office as they talked with the Colonel. Sisko’s baseball still sat on the desk.

Quark gazed at the baseball as he half-listened to Odo and Kira discuss the logistics of reserving a runabout with the proper fuel capacity or whatever it was that non-civilians had to discuss before departing on a mission.

He liked that Kira had kept the baseball, confident that the Emissary would return one day.

*

Waiting for a spiritual figure, larger than life, existing beyond life - that had strangely made more sense to Quark than his own pitiful vigil.

Two years and counting, and he still kept dreaming of Odo.

Even as he found himself in a relationship with Ro - which he still couldn’t ever quite believe was real, no matter how many times she had assured him it was - Odo never left his mind.

The same thoughts kept plaguing him as he took another sip of his drink, waiting for Ro to show up during one of her usual security rounds.

What was he doing? Waiting for a god of the Vortas who never wanted to be a god in the first place?

He imagined all the Yelgruns and Weyouns and - his lip curled at the memory - even the Keevans, who must’ve been thrilled beyond measure when Odo returned to heal the Link.

They had waited for a savior for their gods, and they got him.

What a big damn hero.

He took another sip and waited for Ro to appear.

*

Quark forgot exactly when he had started noticing Kira's glances to Ro, but once he started noticing, he couldn’t stop.

He chalked it up to his bartender’s instinct, honed over the years, and tried not to think about how much it reminded him of Odo glancing at Kira all those years ago.

The Colonel was far more mature about her feelings.

Kira never let her feelings for Ro interfere with her duties. She never let it stop her from still getting a drink with Quark once in a while.

They weren’t exactly friends, but they still had each other's backs.

But it was much easier once he realized he had to break things off with Ro.

*

He hated himself for it, even as he told himself Ro would be better off without him.

You couldn’t have a chief of security who was in a relationship with one of Deep Space Nine’s most notorious criminal minds, after all.

Ro saw right through his rationalizations with that wonderfully sharp perception of hers immediately.

She couldn’t be that mad at him. It was hard to be mad at someone who was already torturing himself every day.

They talked and talked. And she understood, but it didn't hurt any less.

He wondered what Pel would think of him now, preferring the complete opposite of a traditional Ferengi female.

Her being her was not what Quark had wanted, as much as he wanted to want it.

*

Shortly after Kira started dating Ro, she dropped by his quarters with Odo’s bucket.

He recognized it immediately.

“I’m only taking this because it might become very valuable someday,” he told her. “One of the few tangible items ever owned by the Savior of the Changelings.”

Kira laughed. “How would people know it’s authentic?”

“You could sign off on a Certificate of Authenticity.” He waggled his browridges. “Buyers might not always believe me, but you’re Colonel Kira of Deep Space Nine, the commanding officer who was first officer to The Emissary, leader during The Resistance -”

She held up a hand, smiling. “I get it, Quark.”

“Besides,” he added. “You never know when he’ll come back.”

Kira’s smile faded slightly. “You don’t have to keep waiting for him forever, Quark.”

He shrugged. “I know I don’t.”

But he still accepted the bucket, found a nice corner for it in his bedroom.

Just in case.

 

* * *

 

Quark hadn’t realized how long he had been staring at the baseball until Odo reached out and gently shook his shoulder.

“Quark?” Odo asked. “Are you all right?”

“Wha-huh?” Quark blinked as he took stock of his surroundings, looking from Odo to Kira and back again. “Yeah. Yes. Why?”

“You were staring at the baseball for so long, I thought it might’ve been an Orb in disguise,” Odo said dryly.

Kira chuckled. “Wouldn’t be a total surprise, considering it belonged to the Emissary. But you did have us worried for a moment, Quark.”

“Oh,” Quark said, embarrassed. “Sorry about that. You were saying, Colonel?”

“The runabout’s reserved and ready to go first thing in the morning. It’ll be waiting for you when you wake up.”

“That’s great,” he said. “Thanks, Colonel.”

“Don’t mention it.” Her smile faded slightly as she glanced between him and Odo. “I really do hope you two find him. Good luck.”

Odo nodded. “Thank you, Nerys.”

They both got up to leave.

“One more thing,” Kira said.

And they both sat back down again.

Kira had a complex expression on her face as she glanced back at Odo.

“Sorry, Odo,” she said. “I’d like to speak with Quark alone.”

Quark raised his browridges.

He could only think of one subject that Kira would want to discuss with him without Odo present in the room, and that subject was sitting right next to him, making an array of goo noises so loud that Quark wouldn’t have been surprised if the entire Ops crew heard it.

“I see,” Odo said after a while.

His eyes flickered over to Quark, then back to Kira again.

“What if I shapeshifted my ears away?” Odo suggested, a wry smile on his face.

They laughed, Kira and Quark together, and Quark felt lighter somehow.

“Odo,” Kira chided. “You know you can still hear without your ears.”

The Changeling pretended to sigh in disappointment, but he was still smiling. “It was worth a try.”

Quark eyed him with suspicion. “You wouldn’t _really_ have done it, right?”

“No, Quark.” Odo looked back at him warmly. “Not after the fainting incident.”

“Oh, hah.” He hadn’t thought Odo would’ve remembered.

“What fainting - you know what, never mind.” Kira leaned forward on her desk. “But I really do have some things to discuss with Quark, Odo. I promise it’s nothing bad.”

“Very well.” Odo stood up. “I suppose I owe some other people a visit.”

“Yeah?” Quark asked. “Morn’s probably got another earful of stories to tell you.”

Odo grunted. “I was thinking more along the lines of Lieutenant Dax, Quark.”

“Ezri?” Quark gulped.

The Changeling gave him a meaningful look. “We do have quite a few things to discuss, Lieutenant Dax and I.”

Quark turned back to Kira. “Colonel, are you sure you want to talk to _just_ me?”

She nodded and looked like she was trying to be reassuring. “I’m sure, Quark.”

He sighed.

Odo strode over to him and leaned down to speak into Quark’s ear. “I’ll see you back in your quarters?”

It suddenly occurred to Quark that this would be the first time they’d be apart after their reunion.

Quark turned and almost bumped into Odo’s nose.

“Yeah. Okay,” Quark said in a small voice. “Later, Odo.”

The Changeling tilted his chin up and gave him a quick, soft kiss.

“Later, Quark. I’ll be waiting for you.”

He watched Odo walk out the door, then turned back to Kira with a sheepish grin.

Kira looked thoughtful, and had her chin propped in her hand as she leaned an elbow on the desk.

Somehow Quark felt the need to apologize. “Sorry, Colonel.”

She blinked in surprise. “What’s there to be sorry about?”

“Um. This whole…” He gestured with his hands. “Rectangle we’re in. Square. Not a triangle, because there’s four people involved, at the very least -”

“Quark?”

He was going to have to spell it out, wasn’t he? “You know. You and Ro, Ro and me, me and Odo, Odo and you…” Quark counted on his fingers. “Let’s go with rectangle. The sides aren’t quite even enough to be a square.”

Kira frowned slightly. “Shapes aside, Quark, I don’t think there’s anything to apologize for. If anything, I should be the one apologizing to you.”

“Me?” Now it was Quark’s turn to frown. “What for? Not that I don’t love accepting a freely given apology at any time, but I do like knowing the reason. If there’s a reason?”

“It’s not a great reason.” Kira sat up straight in her chair. “But it is what I wanted to talk with you about.”

“Oh.” He tried to think of what Odo-related reason Kira could possibly have to apologize for. “I’m blanking - tell me?”

“It’s Odo.” She glanced down for a moment, hesitating, before speaking again. “I… knew you were in love with him a long time ago.”

He raised a browridge. “Yeah, I told you that already.”

“No, Quark. I meant before you told me.”

That was new. “What?”

“Jadzia first brought it up ages ago, and I didn’t believe her, and -”

“Wait, _Jadzia_ -”

“After the zhian’tara.” Kira took a deep breath and exhaled. “I didn’t believe her at first, but… well… I kept noticing things. Moments. Between you and Odo. But I kept ignoring it.”

Quark could hear her voice grow smaller and sadder and he wanted to tell her it was okay, she didn’t have to keep speaking.

But that pesky bartender’s instinct told him that Kira needed to confess, so he remained silent.

“If only I had known… no, that’s not right, I already knew.” Kira closed her eyes and leaned forward, resting her forehead against her clasped hands. “Things could’ve gone differently,” she said eventually. “Maybe they already would have, if we never landed on Gaia.”

“Oh, the planet where…” Quark’s voice trailed off, recalling the horrified way Kira had described Gaia-Odo’s actions.

All those people, gone in a moment.

“Yes, that planet.” She lowered her hands to look at him. “I think what I’m trying to say is that, if it weren’t for that other Odo - if it weren’t for the idea that his future self had always been in love with me - it could’ve been you, Quark.”

“What are you talking about?”

Kira looked stricken. “You and Odo could’ve been together much earlier if it weren’t for me.”

Quark hadn’t thought of that.

Well, he had thought _that,_ to the extent that he sometimes had wished that Odo hadn’t chosen Kira over him, but not in the way Kira was thinking.

His throat constricted slightly at how sad Kira looked.

It wasn’t fair.

Maybe there really was something to that multiple Odo idea after all.

He coughed and tried to blink away the tears building up at the corners of his eyes. Why was the station so dusty?

“Look, Colonel.” Quark tried to sound reassuring. “It’s not your fault. You don’t have anything to apologize to me for, either. And I’m not trying to be _nice_ . So don’t think I’m trying to protect your feelings or anything, because I _was_ jealous of you - still am, sometimes - but -”

Kira laughed. “You were jealous of _me_?”

“Duh.” Quark rubbed at his eyes. “You’re Kira Nerys, brilliant and beautiful, sharpest eye in the Quadrant, fighter to the end. You’re one of the _very_ few people whom I’d completely and utterly trust with my life, the most perfect Bajoran ever to walk amongst solidkind, and -”

Kira sniffled, touched by his praise. “Quark, you don’t have to -”

“- Colonel, the point is that you were so obviously his ideal. Factually. He picked you over me.”

“Temporarily, Quark,” she corrected gently. “You know he didn’t come back from the Great Link for me.”

“Well.” His voice grew quiet. “You’re right.” He laughed, glancing back up at her. “I honestly did not expect that.”

“I think I did.” She smiled. “And - I’m not trying to be nice here either, Quark - that’s part of why I was jealous of _you_.”

“Oh.” Quark scrutinized her for a moment. “Wait, what?”

“Here - maybe we should have a drink.”

Kira reached underneath the desk and pulled out a bottle of Romulan ale in an incredibly dark shade of blue, as well as two glasses. She set one glass down in front of Quark and the other in front of herself before opening the bottle.

Quark eyed the ale as Kira poured him a glass. “When did _you_ get a bottle of Romulan ale? Without me knowing about it?”

She gave him a wry smile as she poured a glass of her own. “You’re not the only one with secrets, Quark.”

“Clearly.” He took his glass and held it up to hers for a toast, smiled as their glasses clinked together. “So, about this jealousy thing…”

Kira took a long sip of her glass, then set it down. “You’ve just... got this way of bringing out a side of Odo I never really could.”

“Huh.” Quark took a long sip from his glass as well, then made a face as he examined the liquor inside - he hadn’t had this strong a vintage in a while. “Whew. That’s… wow.”

“I know.” Kira chuckled.

He glanced back up at her. “What side of Odo do you mean? His sarcastic side? Because he’s like that with everyone, Colonel.”

“Not everyone. He’s different with you.” She looked at him fondly. “It’s not always the nicest side of him, sure, but it’s… more honest, somehow. You get to him in a way no one else can.”

Quark grinned. “Get under his skin? Guess I’m somewhat skilled at picking that lock.”

Kira snorted. “For the sake of our friendship, I’ll pretend that’s the only lock you know how to pick.”

He stared at her.

“What? Quark, what’s wrong?”

“You said friendship.”

Kira gave him an odd look. “What’s wrong with that?”

“Nothing’s wrong with that.” Quark blinked back tears. The ale must’ve been stronger than he had thought. “It’s just… I didn’t think you considered me a friend. A decent emergency deputy, yeah, but -”

“Oh, Quark.” Kira fidgeted with her glass, spinning it around and around in her hands. “I’m sorry, I thought…” She laughed ruefully. “I always did have trouble maintaining friendships outside of the Resistance.”

“No, you’re doing great!” Quark said, sitting forward. “It’s me, honestly. I’m not used to being actual _friends_ with fe-males.”

The corner of Kira’s mouth twitched upwards. “Me neither, come to think of it. Jadzia was…” She swallowed hard. “I think Jadzia was my first real female friend after the Occupation ended.”

“Me too,” Quark said.

They looked at each other and clinked their glasses in a toast.

“So was that all you wanted to talk about?” Quark asked as he poured himself another glass. “Because it’s all fine, Colonel -”

“Nerys,” she said.

He grinned. “Nerys,” he repeated. “It’s fine. You don’t have to apologize for anything. But, you know, if it makes you feel better - apology accepted.”

“Thanks, Quark.” She looked relieved. “I do feel better. I feel… happy. I’m happy, and you’re happy. And it feels strange, I’ll be honest.”

Kira finished her glass and Quark poured her another one.

“It shouldn’t feel strange to be happy,” Quark told her.

“It does for me. And I’m not saying it to be self-pitying.” She gripped her glass tightly. “Maybe it’s a Resistance thing, I don’t know. I just know it feels strange to me.”

“It shouldn’t,” Quark repeated insistently, and it suddenly became very important for him to make sure Kira knew this. “I’ve seen the way Ro makes you laugh, Nerys. The way you relax around her. Like you're finally safe enough to relax. It’s like... she lights you up from within."

He smiled, thinking of all the people he ever loved.

“Like electricity," he added softly. "Like sunlight. You’re strong enough without her, but your life has so much added value with her in it. Like a more complete form of happiness." He refocused on Kira. "And you, of all people, deserve as much happiness as you can get.”

“You too, Quark.” Kira nodded and kept nodding. “So when Odo heals Laas, just remember that _you_ deserve happiness too, okay? Don’t do that altruistic thing and let Odo go with him, because that won’t make him happy like I thought it would. It won’t.”

“Excuse me?” Quark wasn’t so drunk that he didn’t still feel an instinctual Ferengi jab of revulsion at the word _altruistic._ “Nerys, I -”

“As your commanding officer and friend, Quark, I _order_ you to fight for yourself. Understand?”

She aimed the glass at him as if it were a phaser, and Quark nodded.

“Oh believe me,” he told her. “I will.”

He wasn’t about to let go of Odo now. Even when he had tried, he couldn't.

They both eyed the remaining ale, deep and cobalt within its bottle, then glanced back at each other.

“One more glass?” they asked each other, and laughed.

 

* * *

 

The way to his quarters seemed longer than usual, but Quark found it in the end.

He walked inside and saw Odo waiting for him on the couch, reading a padd.

Quark chuckled at the sight. It was so domestic.

“Liberated one of your old dirty stories, eh Odo?”

Odo looked up and brightened at the sight of him. “Quark!”

“No, stay there,” Quark said, wobbling his way over to the couch. “I’ll come to you.”

Odo set the padd aside. “So what did you and Nerys talk about?”

“Oh, nothing. Just some station gossip.” Quark eyed Odo with what he hoped was an alluring smile, then tripped and fell into Odo’s arms.

“You’re _drunk_ ,” Odo said in wonder. He didn’t protest as Quark climbed into his lap, but did look mildly concerned. “Are you all right?”

Quark gazed up at him. “Yup.”

“What happened?”

“The Colonel had some excellent vintage -” Quark hiccuped. “Romulan ale.” He pressed a finger to Odo’s lips. “Don’t tell anyone it’s all gone. It was a good year.” He rested his head against Odo’s chest, snuggling close. “Very good…”

Odo gently lifted Quark’s finger off of his lips. “You didn’t leave Nerys in a similarly inebriated state, I hope?”

“Nah, she’s far better at holding her liquor now than I am. Dunno if you knew, but Nerys could drink a Cardassian under the table…” He wriggled in Odo’s lap a bit. “Reminds me, I have to confess, I -”

Odo quickly placed a hand to his lips. “No, Quark, you don’t have to tell me anything related to a Cardassian confession.”

Quark waggled his browridges, then proceeded to kiss Odo’s hand, sloppily.

Odo laughed. He withdrew his hand and let it drift down Quark’s back, then brought his other hand around to close the loop. “Quark, you can’t - we can’t do anything when you’re in this state.”

“We can’t?” Quark frowned. He nuzzled Odo’s chest petulantly, making a frustrated noise. “But you’re… here. And so am I.”

“Yes.” Odo tightened his embrace, and Quark smiled up at him, resting his chin on Odo’s chest. “But you’re not _entirely_ here,” Odo continued.

Quark tried to negotiate. “Mostly is close to entirely?”

“No, Quark.” Odo regarded him for a moment, then leaned down to nuzzle his nose. “Not close enough. Not for your consent. Or my comfort, for that matter.”

A sweet gesture. It did nothing to alleviate his alcohol-amplified horniness, but Quark supposed he could delay their actual first time a little while longer.

“I guess that’s sweet,” Quark murmured. “You’re sweet.”

He leaned forward and licked Odo’s chin.

“Quark!” Odo laughed. “Don’t try it.”

“I’m not _trying_ anything,” Quark pouted. “I’m merely expanding my repertoire and freshening my mental catalogue of tastes.”

“What do I taste like, then?”

“Expensive spirits,” Quark replied. “The highest class absence of flavor, ready to be mixed -”

“You’re the most sentimental bartender I’ve ever met, Quark.”

He frowned. “Am not.”

“That was meant to be a compliment.”

“Huh. Well. In that case.” Quark yawned and let his eyes fall shut.

Odo made a good pillow. It even felt like the Changeling had softened his chest somewhat, just enough to cushion Quark’s tired head.

“I’m the most in the Quadrant,” he mumbled.

“Most what?” Odo asked fondly, but Quark was already asleep.

 

* * *

  

They stood together on the surface of Koralis III, having navigated their way through an obscure patch of forest until they reached the rumored clearing where Brunt's investigators had spotted a peculiar creature wandering the woods, morphing and altering shape each time it was spotted next.

Odo did most of the standing. Quark was too busy holding onto Odo’s arm as he tried not to topple forward onto the forest floor.

Nature always seemed to find him when he least wanted it to.

The hangover wasn’t helping.

Quark hadn’t remembered what he did with his last Romulan Ale induced hangover. Probably asked Dr. Bashir for a hangover remedy injection, though he dimly recalled nothing quite working, since Bashir still hadn’t puzzled out the finer details of Ferengi physiology yet.

More likely than not, Quark supposed he had curled up underneath his blankets and slept it off.

Still, it wasn’t all bad.

The hangover itself was fairly awful, but it did give him a convenient excuse to lean against Odo - not that he needed much of an excuse nowadays.

“There’s supposed to be a cave near these coordinates somewhere,” Odo said, glancing around.

“Supposed to be?” Quark asked. “Thought you’d been here before.”

“Not this part of the planet.”

“What about your goo powers?”

Odo huffed an incredulous laugh. “‘Goo powers,’ Quark?”

To be honest, Quark hadn’t completely been sure if Odo had ever told him about such powers, or if he had only imagined it.

“You know,” Quark prompted, swirling a hand in the air.

“No, Quark. I don’t know.”

“Isn’t there some kind of…” He struggled to come up with the words. “Innate Changeling homing navigational… sense?” Off Odo’s bemused expression, Quark attempted to elaborate. “Like your goo vibrates when you get close to another Changeling?”

“That’s not remotely anything like the experiences I’ve had near other Changelings,” Odo said, smiling. “I’ve never felt that.”

“Oh,” Quark said. “Maybe it was just a dream, then.”

“You’ve dreamed of me quite often,” Odo murmured.

“I didn’t say it was you, specifically. Just a dream of Changelings in general. Probably.”

“Mm-hmm.” Odo wrapped an arm around Quark’s shoulder. His hand rubbed soothingly along Quark’s upper arm. “We might as well continue walking. If you hear anything, let me know.”

Quark sighed. “I will.”

His head hurt and his feet were already sore.

But Laas was out there, probably. Hopefully.

If not Laas, then some other feral Changeling lumbering around the forest, looking like amber goo whenever the daylight shone through it.

Quark really hoped it was Laas.

*

They found the cave partially hidden amongst the trees and stepped inside.

Beams of soft light filtered through the plants lining the occasional gap overhead, illuminating some of the cave’s twists and turns amongst the rock.

In the middle of one of the illuminated sections, Quark stopped short and squeezed Odo’s arm.

“I hear something,” he whispered.

The steps grew louder as the source of the sound approached them.

“I can hear it now, too,” Odo whispered back to him. “Stay close.”

“You couldn’t tear me away,” Quark replied. He glanced up at Odo’s watchful face as it gazed out into the cave’s shadows. “Think we should call out to him?”

“Not yet,” Odo said. “We don’t know if it’s Laas for certain. It might not be.”

“I was afraid you’d say that,” Quark murmured. “Whatever it is, though, it doesn’t sound good.”

“Yes. The steps are off-rhythm. Something’s wrong.”

They fell silent and waited.

Eventually, a creature seemingly made of wood, limbs flaking bark, emerged into the light.

Quark remembered seeing something similar in one of Jadzia’s holosuite programs, the one set in ancient Earth. Something about a round table and royalty. Knights that rode some tall animal with four limbs. Jadzia had offered to teach him how to ride one, but Quark had declined.

A horse, he recalled.

The horse-like creature dragged its limbs forward until it stopped in front of them, its luminous eyes strange yet familiar.

Odo and Quark looked at each other.

Quark nodded his head towards the creature. _You should say something_ , he mouthed.

He let go of Odo’s arm.

The Changeling eyed him, hesitating for a moment, then turned to the creature.

“Laas?” Odo asked.

The creature’s mouth broke into a lopsided smile, a crack in the wooden face.

Bark - or the semblance of it, Quark realized with a sympathetic grimace - fell onto the ground as it spoke.

“Odo,” the creature rasped.

“Laas, I have the cure. For our people’s disease.”

Odo walked to the creature. He placed his hands on the creature’s head.

“I’m sorry I kept you waiting,” Odo whispered, leaning down to speak to the other Changeling. “I’m so sorry.”

“I haven’t been waiting long,” Laas replied. He leaned upwards into Odo’s touch.

“Long enough,” Odo said. “Link with me.”

Laas nodded.

Shutting his eyes, Odo touched his forehead to the other Changeling’s as they began to link.

As one flowed into the other, merging and coalescing, Quark felt like he was viewing something intensely private, yet beautiful in its rarity - a moment of healing, chaste in its tenderness.

Merciful Intercessor indeed, he mused.

He watched the two forms almost become one, man and creature, until the creature morphed back into the shape of a humanoid, and the man became Odo again.

“Thank you,” Laas told Odo, stepping away from the other Changeling as he solidified back into the self Quark remembered seeing before.

And then Laas turned to look at him as well, and Quark froze.

“I thank you as well, Quark.”

“Me?” Quark blinked in the cave’s light. “What’d I do?”

Laas tilted his head in Odo’s direction. “You were kind. You brought him to me.”

“Yeah, well.” Quark shifted his weight from one foot to the other. The gratitude in Laas’s voice surprised him, sounding out of place in the other Changeling’s haughty tones. “It was nothing.”

“It was everything,” Laas replied.

He glanced at Odo, who inclined his head in a small nod.

Laas walked forward, slowly, as if just remembering how to walk on two legs, hands behind his back. “I had underestimated you, Quark.”

“Hey, well.” Quark shrugged. “You’re welcome. I’m just glad we found you in time.”

Laas’s mouth quirked upwards. “You wouldn’t have been able to find me if I hadn’t wanted to be found.”

Quark stared at him, then back at Odo, who had walked over to stand by his side again.

“Odo?”

“What Laas means,” Odo said serenely, “is that he had been wary of seeking out the Link on his own. What if he had infected the rest of our people with the disease? Koralis III is uninhabited by humanoids. He had no way of knowing the Link had healed.”

Quark felt terrible. Worse than any bad tube-grub nausea.

All that time, alone, waiting for Odo?

With no one for company?

No wonder Laas changed into an animal instead.

And maybe it was the hangover pounding a dull ache into his skull, or maybe he was tired of feeling so much sympathy for yet another person waiting for Odo’s return.

Or maybe Odo had been wrong and there _were_ some strange goo powers at work in the cave, triggered by the Changelings’ proximity to each other.

But it only felt right for him to reach out and grab Laas by the arms and blurt out, “I’m sorry.”

His voice cracked slightly, echoing along the cave walls.

He watched as Laas’s eyes shifted into something less otherworldly and normal.

“Quark, you don’t have to apologize,” Laas told him. “But I thank you, all the same.”

The Changeling gently removed Quark’s hands from his arms, then looked back at  Odo.

For a second, another terrible feeling laced through Quark and made his stomach feel as if it had transported out of his body.

What if Odo would rather be with Laas, another Changeling, instead?

Kira and Ro preferred each other - they were so similar, so _right_ for each other, and so obviously a perfect couple -

“Quark,” Odo chimed in. “There’s something we learned just now that we hadn’t known before.”

“It’s a form of rudimentary Linking,” Laas explained. “It’s hard to explain in words.”

“But I can show you,” Odo said.

He walked forward until he stood in front of Quark, then rested his hands on Quark’s shoulders.

“If you let me,” Odo said.

Quark frowned up at him, confused. “But I thought Linking was only a Changeling thing?”

“That’s what we had thought as well,” Odo replied. “And perhaps the rest of our people had convinced themselves it must be so. But the ability to engage in a Link isn’t limited only to Changelings - just the ability to instigate it.”

Laas chuckled. “Quark. Something about your connection with Odo unlocked a deeply buried part of ourselves - our abilities - that even I hadn’t been aware of until just now.”

“I had a hint of it before,” Odo said. “When Sisko, Bashir, and Garak had experienced part of my past on the station. When it was still Terok Nor.”

Quark remembered. “Your morphogenic matrix fiasco.”

“Fiasco’s not exactly - well, it’s more or less appropriate,” Odo said with a smile. He gently massaged Quark’s shoulders with his hands. “But that interaction was unwilling, and out of my control. This is something different.”

“Something that can be controlled?” Quark asked.

The two Changelings glanced at each other for a moment.

“We’re uncertain,” Laas said. “It might be akin to a Vulcan mind meld. It might also be something completely different.”

Odo nodded. “But we can find out, Quark. With your permission.”

Quark shrugged. “Yeah, sure.”

He waited to see Odo’s hands desolidify and melt into goo.

Instead, he saw Odo leaning forward.

Surprised, Quark looked back up into Odo’s eyes, just in time for the Changeling to touch their foreheads together.

He felt a flash of something blissful and sweet, much like what he felt when Odo first returned to the station, amplified beyond measure.

Warmth blossomed throughout his entire being, suffusing his every nerve until Odo pulled away.

“Do you understand, Quark?”

For a moment, Quark did.

For a brief, indescribably vast moment, Quark completely understood.

And as an added bonus, his hangover had vanished entirely.

His doubts about Odo had vanished as well.

It was hard to stay doubtful when an overwhelming feeling of love washed away the uncertainty.

Quark grinned as he looked back at Laas, who had been watching them with a small smile.

He wasn’t the only one who was healed that day.

“Come on,” Quark said. “You’ve been milling around this cave long enough. Let’s go get some fresh air.”

And they all walked back outside together.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> _well, you can't get what you want, but you can get me_  
>  _So let's set out to sea, love_  
>  _'Cause you are my medicine_  
>  _When you're close to me_  
>   
>  **gorillaz** // on melancholy hill  
>   
>   
>  -some insight from Laas - and other things - wait ahead!


	7. take me to the feeling

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Quark and Odo deal with some phantoms from the past. Laas tries out a few different looks. Sometimes ghost stories aren't what they seem.

They stepped out of the cave into the afternoon. A breeze blew through the trees surrounding them, and the cool air felt good on Quark’s face.

And if he felt good, Quark supposed Laas must be feeling extraordinarily good, because the Changeling kept giving off an infectious energy as he walked ahead, standing tall, looking around at everything with newfound appreciation. Quark supposed that’s what most people did after they were blessed with a second chance at life.

As for his own second chance, Quark supposed it wouldn’t hurt to pick Laas’s brain for a few tips on being in a solid-Changeling relationship...

“Did you hear that?” Laas asked suddenly, slowing down his pace.

“Hear what?” Odo asked. He tightened his hand around Quark’s, as if preparing to pull him out of harm’s way.

Laas looked as if he were trying not to look apprehensive. “Someone whispering.”

Both Changelings turned to look at Quark. He shook his head.

“Didn’t hear anyone else besides us,” Quark said. He would’ve known - he could normally hear things many others couldn’t.

Odo glanced around, looking for anything out of the ordinary. “The mining colony was abandoned quite some time ago. There shouldn’t be anyone else on the planet. Could it be one of Brunt’s investigators?”

“I’d have heard them,” Quark said, gripping Odo’s hand with more than a little nervousness. “Brunt’s investigators aren’t _that_ good at hiding themselves. If Laas could hear something, I should’ve been able to hear it, too.”

The breeze picked up and whistled through the trees more strongly than before.

“Are you sure it sounded like whispering?” Odo asked Laas. “And not the wind?”

“I’m sure. It was someone’s voice,” Laas replied, glancing around as well. “A low whispering, but I couldn’t make out the words. It started sometime after we stepped out of the cave.” He frowned. “But now I can’t hear it anymore.”

They glanced back at the mouth of the cave.

It looked harmlessly mundane in the sun, but Quark still held tightly onto Odo’s hand, just in case.

Laas spoke up again. “Perhaps it was my morphogenic matrix, making me hear things that aren’t truly there. Did you experience anything similar after your healing, Odo?”

“Not at all.” Odo eyed the cave with suspicion. “There weren’t any after-effects whatsoever. The healing should have returned to you to your normal state.” He frowned as he contemplated the cave’s entrance. “Maybe we should return to the runabout and scan for other lifeforms from there.”

“No, Odo, please!” Laas held up his hands. “Don’t trouble yourself any further on my account. The virus had additional years to fester within me - perhaps the consequences differ.” He looked at Quark, a slight smile softening his features. “I trust Quark’s hearing far more than my own. It’s likely a product of my imagination, if anything.”

Quark glanced up at Odo with a smirk. “Hear that, Odo?”

“I heard,” Odo replied neutrally, but Quark knew him well enough to detect the barest hint of an irritated rasp in response to Laas’s compliment. “Nevertheless, we should still return to the runabout. You might require further medical assistance,” he told Laas, “and Dr. Bashir is the most qualified individual I’m aware of who could possibly provide it.”

“On the station?” Laas asked, and Odo nodded. “Ah. Well. There _is_ still the minor issue of the Klingon,” Laas noted, sounding so clinical about being wanted for murder that he may as well have been analyzing a sample of dirt.

It was off-putting, but Quark had been around worse. And helped worse, besides.

“We could get around that,” Quark piped up. “Just disguise yourself as someone else. We’ll say we found a Changeling, but won’t say it’s you. I mean, that you’re Laas.” He sighed. “You know what I mean, right?” He deliberately ignored Odo’s displeased harrumphing next to him.

An amused glimmer shone in Laas’s eyes. “I do. But I haven’t necessarily practiced another humanoid form besides this one, Quark.”

Quark blinked. “You have to practice?”

Both Changelings gave him a dismayed look.

“Quark, all those years I’ve practiced shapeshifting above your quarters - why did you think I kept doing it every day?” Odo asked him.

“To torture me personally,” Quark replied, not entirely hiding his smile. It was hard not to smile when Odo kept holding his hand.

“True, before the soundproofing,” Odo conceded, and Quark blushed a little at the memory of their past tension. “But there _was_ a practical purpose as well.”

“To practice different forms of torturing me personally?”

Odo rolled his eyes. “And to practice the movements required to assume different forms. It’s somewhat akin to dancers learning new routines, perhaps. Choreography of the self, in a sense.” He glanced back at Laas, who was watching the two of them with a thoughtful expression. “At least, that’s how I’ve tended to consider it. Laas, what do you think?”

“A serviceable analogy,” Laas replied. “Perhaps instead of assuming a completely new appearance, I’ll try another approach.”

They watched as Laas concentrated and shifted into a fairly anonymous-looking brown-haired man of average build and slightly above average height. He retained the high forehead, but his face had smoothed out so it wasn’t clearly from one humanoid race or another. In fact, it looked like a faint mixture of Laas’s Varalan-inspired form and…

“He looks like he could be your older brother,” Quark commented, glancing up at Odo. “Or a young uncle, maybe.”

“It’s… different,” Odo said. “It reminds me of my older self on Gaia.”

“Oh.” Quark squeezed his hand. “But not exactly, right?”

“No, not exactly.”

“Is this acceptable?” Laas asked, looking uncertain. “I realize your alternate self wasn’t a… pleasant memory, Odo, but I didn’t want to imitate your current self either. Yours was the closest humanoid form I have for a model. Besides Quark’s, I suppose.”

They all contemplated the possible outcome of Laas attempting to base his features on Quark.

The thought seemed mutually unsettling.

“No, it’s best you didn’t use Quark for a model,” Odo said eventually. “This is fine. And I’m relieved you chose not to look like my older self entirely.”

Quark eyed Laas’s new form critically. “Maybe change the outfit a little?”

Both Changelings turned to him with a similar dismayed look again. Quark stifled a laugh. They really did look like brothers at this point.

“What’s wrong with the outfit?” Odo asked. “It’s an exact replica of the one I had on Gaia, just in a darker color.”

“You wore a sack for a shirt?” Quark asked dryly. “That thing looks hideous, Odo.”

“It was a perfectly serviceable representation of clothing.”

Quark raised a browridge. “Perfectly serviceable fashion crime, honestly.”

A quiet cough from Laas - obviously on purpose, as most Changeling sounds were - returned Quark and Odo’s attention to the other Changeling.

“Fashion is such a perplexing humanoid concern,” Laas remarked. “But if it stops you two from arguing, I’d be happy to make a few modifications. Quark, what do you suggest?”

There was a slight pause as Quark gaped at him in amazement.

“Quark?” Laas tilted his head. “Are you all right?”

“No one _ever_ asks me for my fashion opinions,” Quark said in a hushed tone, and Odo sighed next to him.

“Didn’t I ask you for your opinion the other day?” Odo grumbled.

“Yeah, but that’s because you’re madly in love with me,” Quark replied lightly. “Laas doesn’t have any ulterior motives.”

“Love isn’t an ulterior motive,” Odo said testily, but he flexed his fingers through Quark’s in a somewhat tender manner, so Quark supposed he wasn’t too annoyed. “So what do you suggest for Laas?”

Quark turned back to the other Changeling in delight, bouncing on his heels.

“This might take a while,” he said. “Let’s walk back to the runabout while we discuss.”

And so they did, deeply engrossed in conversation as they left the cave behind.

And if the breeze seemed slightly colder as they walked, Quark figured it was merely a byproduct of the planet’s weather systems, and nothing more.

 

* * *

 

Laas eventually settled on a simple and trim outfit of various faded hues, like an overcast sky on a foggy morning. He agreed with Odo that it would be best not to draw too much attention, though he did heed Quark’s sartorial notes about reducing the wider expanse of ‘fabric’ at his sides, as it was more aerodynamic.

(“And less like a sack,” Quark had added. He supposed a small part of him had also been irked at the sight of Laas imitating an outfit that Gaia’s Odo had worn to confess his obsessive love for Kira. But, objectively, the style had been appalling.)

It wasn’t a short walk back to the runabout, but Laas was eager to stay out in nature a little while longer, now that he could enjoy the freedom of movement again. Quark couldn’t blame him. Laas had confined himself to that barklike horse form for so long, fearing the consequences of transforming while infected by the virus.

“I thought Changelings had to regenerate every so often,” Quark said.

“It’s not ideal to delay regeneration, but it can be done,” Laas explained. “Though it’s extraordinarily painful to do so. But over time, confining myself to one form became less painful than the virus itself.” He stretched his arms out, then brought them back to clasp his hands behind his waist. “It wasn’t easy. At times I thought I might forget what it would be like to ever change again.”

“Oh,” said Quark. Laas’s tone was light, but the sadness didn’t escape him. “That’s terrible.”

Laas laughed. “It was. But it’s over now. Hopefully. We’ll see what your Dr. Bashir has to say back at the station. In the meantime, however - I think I might practice a few other forms before we depart.” He tilted his head at Odo. “Perhaps a hawk. It’s been quite some time since I’ve taken to the skies. Would you care to join me, Odo?”

A surprised grunt made Quark glance back up, curious.

“Me?” Odo asked, sounding so caught off guard that Quark couldn’t help smiling.

“Do you see any other Changelings around here?” Quark asked, too fond to sound very sarcastic.

“But you’ll be left alone. There’s no one else to keep you company.”

“Not for long, right?” Quark tried not to think too much about the memory of his drunken promise to Kira. “Just promise to come back.”

Odo still hesitated. He ran a thumb along Quark’s knuckles slowly. “What if something happens?”

“I can transport to the runabout - you set up the computer yourself, remember?”

Finally, Odo nodded. “I’ll stay where you can see me.”

“You don’t have to, but I won’t mind if you do.” He grinned. “Go play with your big brother, it’s fine.”

“I’ll never understand your insistence on describing people I know with humanoid familial terms,” Odo grumbled. “First Dr. Mora, now Laas. It’s an overly simplistic reduction, Quark.”

“Whatever.” Quark squeezed his hand, then released it. “Have fun.”

Odo looked at him for a moment, then stooped down for a kiss. He gripped the back of Quark’s neck to hold him still, coaxing a soft noise out of Quark before he pulled away slowly.

“See you soon,” Odo whispered, before stepping back.

Quark watched both Changelings transform, stretching into the shapes of birds, extending their limbs into wings.

He watched them rise above the ground, hovering near eye level for a moment as Laas tested his wings again and Odo flew a loop around Quark, before both hawks shot up in the sky.

Quark stared up at the clouds, at the increasingly disappearing flecks. The sunlight shone down on the back of his hand as he shaded his eyes to watch the hawks in flight, gliding along the currents, winging through the air.

Impulsively, he whistled high and could just about hear one of the hawks screech in response.

Quark smiled.

He continued walking towards the runabout, the Changeling-hawks circling in and out of his vision as they flew overhead.

 

* * *

 

He didn’t have long to wait before Odo was walking next to him again, holding his hand, with Laas walking on the other side of him.

Every so often, Laas would suggest another animal to transform into, drawing upon combined memories of the various creatures of the Alpha Quadrant, herd beasts and solitary hunters and enigmatic tricksters alike.

At one point, Quark suggested Laas consider exobiology for a career, and Laas gently reminded him that Changelings had no need of careers, having very little in the way of physical needs to provide for - but he would keep it in mind, if only to have a cover for his eventual quest.

“I do wish to find the remaining Hundred someday,” Laas said. “And I suspect some might have chosen to adopt primarily animal forms and avoid contact with humanoids altogether. Perhaps they wouldn’t reveal themselves to anyone but another Changeling.”

Quark waited for Laas to suggest that two Changelings could be more efficient at searching than one, but he didn’t.

The unspoken invitation lingered in the air, but neither Odo nor Laas said anything further about it. Quark wondered if they had already discussed the topic during their linking, or while they were being their other selves, but he certainly didn’t plan on being the first to bring it up.

They were almost at the runabout when Laas spoke up again.

“It’s not often I realize I have erred, Quark.”

Now it was Quark’s turn to be caught off his guard. “Huh? About what? And what do I have to do with it?”

“About Odo’s motivations, before.” Laas walked with his hands behind his back, gazing up into the sky. “I assumed the only reason Odo declined to join the Founders was because of Colonel Kira. But that was merely a mask. The real reason was hidden, repressed so deeply that not even the Founders could uncover it without Odo’s permission.”

“Repressed, huh?” Quark glanced up at Odo, who remained curiously quiet, as if he already knew what Laas was going to say and was merely biding his time until it was all over with.

“Severely,” Laas said. “It’s truly remarkable. I suspect Odo’s skill at suppressing his true emotions would impress even the most stoic of Vulcans. Those emotions had been buried _deeply_.”

At that, Odo made an embarrassed-sounding grunt. “You don’t have to put _everything_ into words, Laas.”

“No, please do,” Quark said, grinning. “What was that about Odo’s skill at being a massively repressed Changeling?”

“A prodigy of masking his feelings, as it were.”

“Would’ve much rather been a prodigy of shapeshifting,” Odo muttered.

Quark stifled a chuckle as he swung their clasped hands a little bit. “Look at you, master of repression!”

He couldn’t make out any words he understood in Odo’s grumble of a reply, but he got the general gist.

Quark turned back to Laas. “So you’re saying that whatever he felt for me before was hidden?”

“Hidden, but not completely concealed. I had felt a hint of it, previously, when we last linked on the station. I erred in assuming that the feelings I could sense at the time were at their fullest extent.”

Quark mulled it over as the runabout came into view up ahead.

Despite walking on the grass on a warmly pleasant afternoon, he couldn’t help thinking about the mountain on the barren planet, and how he had been deadly certain that Odo would die hating him if he didn’t get that blasted transmitter high enough. He wasn’t sure if he could have coped with any other knowledge back then - their mutual loathing, odd as it might have seemed to others, had kept them going. As it had at many other times.

“Wouldn’t have minded knowing before,” Quark said cheerfully, flexing his fingers in Odo’s hand, “but that’s all in the past now.”

An odd tone surfaced in Laas’s voice as he asked, as if it could really happen: “You wouldn’t go back and change the past if you could?”

Odo gripped his hand tightly.

“What, like, our personal past?” Quark asked. He shook his head. “Too many factors to consider.”

“Thought you’d say the opposite,” Odo murmured next to him. “Weren’t you the one hell-bent on disrupting the timeline when we were in Earth’s past, before?”

“Yeah, but that was before…” Quark gestured with their clasped hands. “All this.”

“Hm.” Odo sounded thoughtful, almost pensive in his thoughtfulness. “But what if we had a chance to truly start over?”

“What do you mean?”

“Another chance - a real one,” Odo said. “Before all the mistakes. How about it, Quark?”

Odo seemed to be taking the idea seriously, and Quark got the sense that whatever answer he might suggest wouldn’t be enough.

So he didn’t answer.

“Why are you obsessing over this?” Quark asked, smiling as if it were a joke, but still knitting his browridges together.

“He has an obsessive personality,” Laas offered helpfully, and the comment seemed to snap Odo out of whatever train of thought he had been following.

“Laas!” Odo groaned.

The other Changeling seemed taken aback. “I do apologize, Odo - it’s been so long since I’ve communicated in a verbal fashion. I may still need to practice employing… oh, what is it called…” Laas paused, searching for the appropriate word. “Ah! Tact.”

“Yes,” Odo agreed. “You do.”

He didn’t seem inclined to bring up the topic again, so Quark didn’t, either.

They walked along in silence for a moment, then Laas spoke up again.

“In a sense,” Laas said, “I’m rather jealous of the bond you two have.”

“You’re jealous of _me_?” Quark asked in astonishment.

Odo sighed. “Of the both of us, Quark.” He turned to the other Changeling. “And there’s no need for jealousy, Laas. Weren’t you the one who thought the ‘monoforms’ were feebly attempting to compensate for being trapped within themselves?”

“True,” Laas conceded, sounding faintly embarrassed for once. “But having now witnessed the true extent of your connection with Quark… well. There’s nothing feeble about it.”

“Hmph,” Odo grunted, but it had an approving tone to it.

Quark broke into a grin. “Nothing feeble, huh?”

Laas nodded. “Not at all, Quark. Though I must admit, it does accentuate my relative solitude.” He chuckled sheepishly. “I suppose that is a selfish thought.”

“It is selfish,” Quark agreed amiably. “But in a weird way, it makes me like you more.”

Laas smiled. “Perhaps I should find an unconventional Ferengi of my own, no?”

While Laas and Odo were busy chuckling, Quark grew thoughtful.

“Well,” Quark said. “Speaking of unconventional Ferengi…”

And he told Laas about Pel, the fondness in his voice inescapable.

Over the years, he had outgrown his initial disgust when it came to Pel’s defiance of Ferengi conventions. She had been braver than Quark. He had been scared of that bravery, but not anymore.

“Gender presentation can be so bothersome,” Laas commented, after Quark had finished. “Like most unenlightened humanoid societies, the Varalans gave males preferential treatment, so I assumed a male form out of habit, to avoid the inevitable annoyances that accompanied having a female form.” He smiled. “That might give us some common ground, Pel and I. Adopting these external signifiers to maneuver around others’ expectations. I imagine we would have much to discuss.”

Quark nodded.

He hadn’t felt the compulsion to match-make before - too busy trying to find a match of his own to replace his pining over Odo, or at least distract him from it.

But now that he was in - well, something - with Odo, Quark supposed he finally felt like he could turn his attention outside of himself, and think about others’ happiness for a change.

 _Might need the Merciful Intercessor after all_ , Quark thought. _I’m getting soft._

Almost disturbingly… altruistic.

Quark shuddered inwardly. The wind seemed to agree - it felt colder than before, though the sun hadn’t lowered much, and the afternoon was still early.

He thought of something else. “Laas?”

“Yes, Quark?”

“As someone who’s been in a solid-Changeling relationship before… you got any advice?”

“Quark,” Odo groaned, “you don’t need to bother him with-”

“I’m not bothered by the question, Odo,” Laas replied. “It’s just that I don’t think I could provide much in the way of advice. After all, my impression of love was minimal in comparison to yours.”

“Minimal, maximal, the exact amount’s not important,” Quark said lightly. “You could still have some valuable tips on things like, I dunno, sex -”

“Quark!”

“What? Listen, Laas, I’ve been trying to figure out the Changeling dick situation for years -”

At that, Laas made a surprised noise. “You mean you haven’t had sex with Odo yet?”

Quark blinked. He was very aware of a loud amount of upset goo noises rumbling within Odo, who was clutching his hand as if he were afraid he might hit something if he let go of it.

“No, we haven’t,” Quark said slowly. “Couldn’t you sense that while you were linking with him?”

“I could not,” Laas replied, continuing to sound surprised. “Odo, your suppression ability truly _is_ prodigious. I hadn’t ever realized you could be that selective about the information you chose to share in the link.”

“It didn’t seem pertinent to reveal,” Odo said stiffly.

“He’s always been such a private person, hoarding his secrets and whatever,” Quark told Laas. “Anyway, I’m _dying_ to know how you -”

“We’re here!” Odo interrupted, relieved to have finally made it to the runabout. “And not a moment too soon. Come on, Quark, let’s go.”

“But we haven’t finished our conversation!”

“It can wait,” Odo grumbled, gently pushing Quark towards the runabout’s entrance. “I’m not about to delay our departure for such a frivolous reason.”

“Frivolous? I’ll have you know, Odo, I take such matters _very_ seriously…”

As they began walking through the runabout’s open doors, they noticed Laas hadn’t followed them.

Instead, he stood still outside, gazing up into the sky with a slight frown on his face.

“Laas?” Odo asked. “Is something wrong?”

“There’s that whispering again,” Laas said distractedly, straining to hear its source. “Can’t you two hear it?”

Quark exchanged a worried glance with Odo. “Sorry, Laas - I can’t hear it.”

Odo shook his head as well. “I don’t hear anything, either. Let’s try this - we’ll enter the runabout first and transport you onboard. Perhaps we’ll be able to detect something in the process. If it’s malignant, we could trap it in the transporter buffer.”

“Very well,” Laas said, still sounding distracted. “I’ll see you both soon.”

As the runabout doors closed behind them, they watched Laas stare off into the distance, and hoped he wasn’t seeing anything they couldn’t see.

 

* * *

 

Nothing strange appeared on the sensors when they transported Laas onboard, but Odo still laid in a course for the station at maximum warp, just in case.

Almost immediately after the runabout had broken free of the planet’s atmosphere, an odd expression came over Laas, who leaned heavily against Quark’s chair.

“I believe it’s time for me to regenerate,” Laas said, voice sounding thick, as if his vocal cords were already in the process of reverting to his natural state.

“We’ll find you something to settle in,” Odo said, standing up and heading towards the back of the runabout. “I’m sure there’s a scientific vessel around here somewhere…”

Quark snapped his fingers. “I’ve got this. Hang on.”

He headed over to the replicator. “Computer, one Bolian steel travel mug.”

The replicator gently hummed as the mug materialized in front of him. Quark took hold of it, turned around, and held it up to Laas.

“Will this do?” Quark asked, flipping the lid open.

“It will suffice,” Laas said, voice sounding even thicker than before, just as Odo started walking back with a large beaker in hand. “Thank you, Quark.”

“Don’t mention it. See you when you’re done.” Quark set the mug down in front of Laas and watched as the Changeling immediately poured himself inside.

Odo walked over and stood next to Quark as they glanced down at the floor.

“A _mug_?” Odo asked incredulously.

“Easy to carry.” Quark reached down and held up the mug by the handle. “For when we get back to the station? Look, it’s got an ergonomic grip, flip-top lid -”

“Spare me the advertising copy,” Odo chuckled. “I trust your judgment, Quark. For this, at least. But is the lid really necessary?”

“We can remove it whenever his cycle ends.” Quark shrugged. “Or he can just burst through it, I guess.”

He flipped the lid shut, then set it down on one of the nearby consoles.

“Odo?”

“Mm-hmm?”

“Looks like it’s just us again,” Quark said with a grin. He waggled his eyebrows. “Wanna make out?

“Quark!” Odo laughed. “Laas is right there.”

“So?” Quark asked, mollified only somewhat by Odo pulling him close, hands lazily looped around Quark’s waist like when they first reunited. “He can’t tell what’s going on out here while he’s in his natural state, can he?”

“I don’t think so,” Odo said. “I certainly can’t. But Laas is a couple centuries more advanced than I am when it comes to being self-aware about shapeshifting. Perhaps he can sense things that I cannot while he’s regenerating.”

Quark considered this. “Wanna make out anyway?”

“Lecher,” Odo murmured affectionately. He ran a fingertip along Quark’s outer lobe, smirking at the way it made Quark whimper in his arms. “I knew you were an exhibitionist, but not to this extent.”

“What are you talking about?” Quark said weakly, leaning into Odo’s touch. “It’s not like we’re not going to fuck on the chairs or anything.”

Odo scoffed. He returned his hand to Quark’s lower back, enveloping Quark in an embrace. “I should hope not, Quark. Our first time together should be in a bed, not a runabout.”

“Yeah?” A sly grin appeared on Quark’s face as he wriggled in Odo’s arms. “You’ve thought about what our first time should be like, have you?”

“Very much,” Odo murmured. He leaned in for a kiss, which Quark gladly accepted.

 

* * *

 

They kissed deeply for a time, having moved to one of the runabout seats for convenience, with Odo sitting down and Quark sitting in his lap.

He could get used to this - Odo’s hands at his waist and the back of his neck, holding him close, appraising him with firm caresses and a ghost of a growl, fighting more than a little dirty in what Quark could only hope was some leftover knowledge from Curzon.

The growls became louder, vibrating Quark’s sternum from where he was pressed against Odo’s chest, making him blush hard, blood traveling up his lobes -

No, wait.

It wasn’t just Odo or the blushing that made Quark’s ears feel different.

There was something different about the runabout’s momentum.

Quark broke away from the kiss - he couldn’t get too far, not with Odo’s hand still caressing the back of his neck - but he could move his head away just enough to speak.

"Runabouts can only go up to warp five, right?"

“Not what I was hoping you’d say,” Odo said dryly. “But yes. Is something wrong?”

Quark glanced off to the side, listening. “It sounds like we’re going way past the runabout’s maximum warp.”

Frowning, Odo peered around him to examine the runabout’s controls at the pilot station. “The system still shows us as traveling at warp five.”

“I’m telling you," Quark said gravely, "we’re not."

And as much as he hated doing so, Quark extricated himself from Odo’s embrace so he could sit down in the other pilot’s seat.

“If my ears are correct - and I’ll bet all of Morn’s bar tab they are - at the rate we’re going, we should’ve arrived at Deep Space Nine before now.” Quark knitted his browridges at the controls. “The course is still the same, but if we haven’t hit the station yet -”

“Then we’re flying past it. I’ll try operating the navigational array.”

The controls beeped obligingly, but the sound of speeding far beyond warp five still disturbed Quark’s ears, and he knew what Odo was going to say -

“It’s not working,” Odo rasped. “The array still shows us as heading towards the station.”

They looked at each other.

“Do you think it had anything to do with that whispering Laas kept hearing?” Quark asked.

Odo nodded. “It’s plausible. The computer didn’t detect anything when we transported him onboard, but that doesn’t mean something undetectable couldn’t have transported along with him.”

They glanced back at the steel mug, sitting mundanely on one of the side consoles, looking as ordinary as anything could look.

“Maybe it’s nothing bad,” Quark suggested, even as he could hear his voice rise higher and higher to a near hysterical pitch. “So what if it’s taking us to a totally different destination at a totally different speed? Maybe it’s not a homicidal noncorporeal being who’s been waiting for a delicious Ferengi to feast on -”

“Quark, don’t panic -”

“I’m not panicking, I’m just _speculating_ -”

Odo reached out to grab his hand. “Quark. I’m here with you. I’m not going to let you come to harm. Not if I can do anything about it.”

Quark nodded, heart still racing. “There could be a bright side,” he said eventually, falsely bright as he could go. “Maybe whatever it is just needs our help and doesn’t know how to say it.”

“For all our sakes, I hope you’re right,” Odo replied.

They held onto each other’s hand tightly as they continued traveling towards their unknown destination.

 

* * *

 

The familiar yet foreign Cardassian architecture of the station loomed over them as the runabout finally slowed from its unnatural speed.

“It _looks_ just like the station,” Odo observed from the viewing ports. “A perfect mirror.”

“Almost like home, isn’t it? But not,” Quark replied soberly. “Empok Nor. Last I heard, the Cardassians are still having problems preventing scavengers from ransacking it for parts.”

“Do you think whatever’s brought us here might be from Cardassia somehow?”

Quark eyed him. “Can’t recall any ghostly spirits in Cardassian literature.”

“If the runabout couldn’t detect it,” Odo said with a humorless smile, “perhaps the ancient Cardassians couldn’t either. And I’m not saying it’s a ghost - perhaps it’s another non-corporeal alien, like the Prophets.”

“I hope so, because I’m not really in the mood for meeting ghosts,” Quark sighed. “Why couldn’t we get hijacked to Risa instead?”

“A pleasant thought, but it wouldn’t have benefitted Laas much,” Odo noted. “Unless other physicians of Dr. Bashir’s talents happened to also be vacationing during our visit.”

“Hey, that’s plausible, isn’t it?” Quark grinned. “I’m still willing, by the way. To take you there.”

He yelped as Odo tugged him close for another kiss, pulling him out of his seat until he was sprawled against Odo’s chest.

“I know,” Odo said, smiling down at him indulgently. “After all this is over, perhaps.”

A sudden shake of the ship let them know that the runabout had docked. They looked at each other solemnly.

Quark fisted the front of Odo’s uniform, biting his lip. He tried to remember what it was like when being with Odo felt like the safest place he could be, even when the station was shutting down and blaring alarms all around them. But he also didn’t have so much to lose, back then.

It just figured. There was always a catch to his happiness.

Odo rubbed Quark’s back absently as he glanced back at the controls. “The runabout’s not detecting any other lifeforms on the station, but I suppose we won’t know for sure until we go investigate.”

Quark swallowed nervously. "Okay. Sounds better than staying in here.” He glanced around. “Even if we are exchanging a possibly haunted runabout for a possibly haunted station.”

“Not the best of bargains,” Odo agreed. “But it’s the only option we seem to have at the present.”

“Then we might as well get this over with,” Quark sighed.

He stood up and Odo stood up with him.

“Ready?” Odo asked.

“Yeah, let me just get Laas.” And Quark walked over to the mug, taking care to secure the lid as he picked it up. “Whatever’s brought us here, we shouldn’t leave Laas alone with it.”

Odo nodded. “Good thinking.”

And they left the runabout.

 

* * *

 

Looking around, the airlock was empty of other people.

The station remained empty as they walked out of the airlock into the adjacent cargo bay. Most of the lights were still on as normal - the Cardassians had at least provided for some basic upkeep during their most recent visit, but they didn’t dare to assign a steady crew. Quark had heard many a tale of unnerved officers unwilling to return, and Garak often mentioned the strategic difficulties Cardassia faced in deciding what to do with the station, which still had the advantage of being relatively close to the wormhole.

As he and Odo glanced around at the empty cargo bay, Quark wasn’t sure if he would be more terrified to see someone else there, waiting for them, or not.

The station had been abandoned the last time he had visited, but it didn’t seem nearly so eerie with Rom and Nog and the other Ferengi with him. Sure, the Vorta named Keevan died, but it was a simple accident.

“Vorta don’t have ghosts, do they?” he asked Odo suddenly.

“Not that I’m aware of,” Odo replied. “I don’t think my people believe in ghosts, Quark. Neither do the Vorta, for that matter.”

“Are you sure?” Quark asked. “You didn’t know this Vorta, Odo. I wouldn’t put it past Keevan to stick around and haunt me out of spite.”

“ _If_ Keevan had a ghost,” Odo said, “I doubt he’d be interested in going to the trouble of fetching two Changelings and one Ferengi -”

“One Ferengi who witnessed his unfortunate demise -”

“- all the way from Koralis III. I suspect he’d have better things to do.”

“I dunno, Odo… revenge is a hell of a motivation for ghosts.”

Above them, the electricity crackled. Sparks skittered down from the ceiling, landing with glowing little bounces on the floor.

“Let’s go further into the station,” Odo suggested.

They walked over to the cargo bay doors, but they wouldn’t open. Not even Quark’s lockpicking skills were of any use, a fact which particularly insulted Quark, who prided himself on having some of the cleverest fingers in the quadrant.

“We’re locked in,” Odo said grimly.

“Maybe the controls are malfunctioning,” Quark sighed. “It’s not like the Cardassians have been able to keep any engineers here long enough to do the repairs. If Rom were here, he could rig the doors somehow.”

A fleeting thought - that he might never see Rom again - intruded on Quark’s mind. He shoved it away angrily. He’d been in worse situations before, faced even more certain death before, without thoughts of Rom hampering his ability to think.

And he needed to think, because it was starting to look like he and Odo were trapped once again - except this time, with even less of a way to get rescued.

“Odo, should we try sending out a distress signal from the runabout?” He turned to look at the Changeling, who was looking at the locked cargo bay doors with a calculating expression. “Odo?”

“I’m thinking,” Odo said, and he had that investigator’s tone in his voice - contemplative, distant, and scrutinizing. “What’s the point of bringing us here just to lock us in the cargo bay? Unless whatever brought us here _meant_ for us to remain in a confined space, so it could confront us -”

The mug in Quark’s hand began to shake.

They both looked at it.

“What the -”

Suddenly a flare of energy burst out of the mug’s lid, shooting towards the ceiling in a blinding blaze.

And all the lights went out.

“Quark!”

“Odo?”

He shrieked when he felt Odo’s hand grip at his arm.

“Stop screaming, Quark, it’s just me - but I don’t think we’re alone.”

“You think I don’t know that?” Quark gasped, heart racing. Only a few slivers of ambient starlight shone through the slatted windows near the ceiling, and Quark could barely make out Odo’s face in the dark. “Did you see anything before the lights went out?”

“Just the flare of energy.” Odo lowered his voice. “I think it’s still here. But I don’t know if it can communicate with us.”

“Do we want it to communicate with us?” Quark asked, tilting his head up to speak. “Because I’m fine not being communicated with by invisible energy aliens or Cardassian ghosts or whatever’s out there.”

Something clicked for Odo, and Quark could almost hear the gears turning in the Changeling’s mind as Odo asked, “Could it be a Prophet?”

“Or the other thing,” Quark whispered.

He stifled another scream as the lights suddenly flickered on again, shining almost blindingly bright and sterile above them, artificially increased from their normal pale glow.

They watched as the energy dove back down, heading straight towards them -

“Quark, it’s headed for Laas - let go of him!”

And Quark did, letting the mug clatter to the floor as Odo pulled them both away from it, until they fell backwards, Odo cushioning Quark’s fall, arms wrapped tightly around him.

The blaze of energy engulfed the mug, rattling it so hard that Quark kept expecting shards of steel to break apart and fly out in all directions.

As they watched, the mug spilled Laas’s natural state out onto the floor, and the energy flowed around the Changeling, merging with the gelatinous mass and rising upwards, as if shoring it up into a new body.

Quark’s mouth fell open as the glow surrounding Laas faded, and the humanoid looking back at them wasn’t Laas anymore.

He felt Odo’s hands grip his arms in shock.

They gasped out in unison:

_“Dukat?”_

 

* * *

 

Quark shut his eyes and opened them up again.

Unfortunately, the apparition of Dukat was still there.

Odo stood between them, turned slightly to shield Quark with his body, which Quark did not mind at all.

He peeked around Odo’s chest to take another look.

Upon closer inspection, the creature seemed slightly off-model from Dukat. The clothing was a perfect mimicry of Dukat’s once-typical gul’s uniform with its brutal armored points, but the face…

The sneer was slightly too wide, as if the mouth had been stretched just a tad too long. Similarly, the vertical ridge down the nose was slightly too sharp to look natural. The unsettling effect was completed by the eyes, glowing faintly at the edges with an eerie phosphorescence.

Not a face that Quark wanted to see in the dark, or at any other time, really. He supposed it was better that the lights were back on, even if they were a little blinding.

“Do you think he knows he’s dead?” Quark whispered. If he _did_ have to encounter a ghost, he’d much rather encounter a ghost with a firm sense of identity.

“I don’t think it’s a ghost, if that’s what you’re asking,” Odo replied. “That’s not Dukat. It can’t be. Sisko has him trapped in the fire caves - Captain Yates told us so. And somehow I doubt we would be Dukat’s first priority if he had managed to escape.”

“You sure about that?” Quark asked nervously. “Maybe we’re the easiest targets for revenge.”

“What revenge?”

“We’re friends of the Emissary and he was an insane war criminal, I’m sure he could come up with plenty of reasons.”

“Quark, I wouldn’t necessarily consider ourselves _friends_ of -”

But before Odo could finish correcting Quark about their exact connection with Sisko, the apparition spoke.

“Shapeshifter,” the apparition said, ghastly smile stretching even wider in its delight. “We have been waiting for the opportunity to meet more of your kind.”

It was almost a perfect imitation of Dukat’s voice, were it not for the hint of dissonance underneath. There were echoes of multiple other voices at once, harmonizing with a faintly discordant edge to the choir, like an instrument just a hair out of tune.

Odo stood up straighter. “What _are_ you?”

“You may consider us our brethren,” said the apparition.

“Let me venture a guess,” Quark said. “Not the Prophets, but the other thing. A pah-wraith?”

The wraith nodded. “We are not them, but we are akin, though we differ.”

“Differ how?” Odo asked. “And what are you doing with Laas?”

“Our brethren know not the thrill of feasting on fear,” said the wraith, its smile still ghoulishly wide. “We borrow the form of the many-as-one, for it reminded us of our own selves, separated from the rest of our kind, learning to exist in solitude.”

“So you do have a concept of linear time,” Odo deduced. “There was a point of separation, and you exist in the aftermath.”

“Correct, shapeshifter.” The wraith nodded in approval. “We know of the before and the after. It has made us linear against our will. The one whose body we now occupy - he radiated an understanding of such injustice, of being bound to a narrower existence when he used to be boundless. It was what drew us to him. We enjoy how his body shifts, now it is no longer hindered by disease. And we have you to thank.”

Odo went very still. “What do you mean?”

“Had you not healed us, shapeshifter, we may have never realized this body’s full potential. We anticipated gorging on the pain from its inevitable demise. But its renewed strength is even more delicious.”

And the wraith licked its lips, much to Quark and Odo’s disgust.

“We plan to devour as much as we can before moving on to the next host.”

A chill shot through Quark’s spine at the thought. His suspicions of predatory spectres hadn’t been that far off - except instead of preying on Ferengi, the wraith’s appetites were far more grotesque.

“And I thought _I_ knew some emotional parasites,” Quark joked, because joking was essentially the only thing keeping him from fainting or succumbing to a full-fledged panic attack. “So you move from host to host, but something about Laas getting healed made you want to stay. Why?”

The wraith turned to look at him with those terrible eyes, and Quark shrank a little, but grimly kept the wraith in his line of vision.

“The one you know as Laas had courted death,” it replied. “He waited for it to come, even as he waited for the other shapeshifter’s return. We had mistaken his patience for surrender, and bided our time, waiting for the inevitable demise, the pain of such an advanced being’s disappointment.”

“Waiting to strike,” Odo murmured.

“A close approximation,” replied the wraith. “But then you arrived. And you healed him. And as the healing unlocked barriers of the mind, we learned there is _so_ much more to feast upon.”

“Like what?”

The wraith nodded its head towards Odo. “You, shapeshifter.”

And it strode forward, grinning a hideous grin.

“When you unleashed your emotions in the cave,” the wraith explained, “we caught a glimpse into dimensions we had never contemplated before.”

“But those were positive emotions,” Quark protested, even as Odo walked them both backwards from the wraith. “What use are they to you?”

“Don’t you see, bartender? His love makes him _fearful_.” The wraith cackled and the sound resonated throughout the room. “Even now he retreats from the truth! And with good reason,” the wraith added, continuing to stride forward at a casual pace, as if it had all the time in the world. “We look forward to concluding the hunt.”

“What do you want from me?” Odo snarled.

“What any other Changeling wants,” said the wraith. “Link with us.”

The request made Odo stop in his tracks. “You must be _joking_.”

“We are not the bartender,” the wraith admonished, and neither it nor Odo seemed to pay attention to the offended sound Quark made in response. “We had tried to persuade the one you know as Laas to fully merge with you on the planet, but he remained stubborn.”

Quark’s eyes widened. “The whispering we couldn’t hear.”

“You wanted to merge?” Odo frowned.

“To engulf you into ourselves,” said the wraith. “To dissolve the individuality between your body and his.”

“The drop and the ocean,” Quark whispered.

“Correct, bartender.” The wraith nodded back towards the runabout. “We dispersed into the ship while we waited for the cycle to end, but this station’s tortured past lured us to its location. The atrocities the Cardassians committed on their own people - exquisite. The suffering lingers on within these walls, ripe for the harvest. And this form we’ve assumed...”

The wraith gestured to itself, the imitation of Dukat, as if showing off a new set of clothes.

“You still fear it, shapeshifter. Your fear and your hatred for this form, your inability to let him go - it keeps him alive in your mind. And we are feeding well off your hate."

“No,” Odo rasped. “It can’t be.”

“You are but one Changeling, shapeshifter. Link with us, so we may hasten our reunion with the rest of your kind.” The wraith’s eyes gleamed with anticipation. “We long for the banquet that shall provide.”

“You’ll never get anywhere near them,” Odo said thickly, hands balling into fists. “I won’t permit it.”

The wraith’s smile faded slightly. “What you permit is of little consequence,” it replied dismissively. “We are offering you an invitation, but should you decline, we are willing to take what we are too impatient to wait for.”

And as the wraith lunged forward, so did Quark.

It wasn’t his best plan by a long shot, and it was really more of a dead man’s gamble than anything, but it also wasn’t the first time Quark rushed headlong into trouble.

He could hear the wraith’s hands begin to melt away as it prepared to initiate a link.

If he was lucky, the wraith would link with him instead of Odo - or at least Quark’s mind would mess up the wraith’s ability to absorb Odo entirely, swirling an extra ingredient into the link and tampering with its purity.

An old thought swam into Quark’s mind as he heard Odo move to reach out for him.

_The bigger the risk, the bigger the win._

_Right?_

It was the last thing Quark thought of as he crashed into the wraith’s liquefying hand and dived headlong into the link.

 

* * *

 

Quark opened his eyes and saw he was falling through an ocean of stars.

He tumbled over and over into an endless night sky, coat tails swishing behind him as he continued falling, like some ostentatious little bird carried along on the current.

He thought he could hear waves crashing overhead, spreading into storm clouds, rolling into rain -

Yet he was completely dry as he continued on his downward trajectory, and Quark supposed it was a perk of the link.

_The link!_

As Quark glanced around, completely devoid of vertigo or nausea, he noticed that every star was a memory.

All his memories of Odo, or Odo’s memories of him - he couldn’t tell which, for they were often one and the same - flew past his eyes, exceeding a limit he could not see.

He traced his way through the constellations, watching their history at the center of every supernovae’s distant light, colliding and expanding into something far beyond the prophets and the pah-wraiths.

And finally, Quark landed on his feet.

He looked around him with surprise.

He was standing on an island in the middle of an ocean. It resembled what he supposed the Great Link might resemble at night, everything awash in the deepest cerulean.

The island was dark and the ocean was darker, yet the tides seemed gentle as they flowed and receded along the shore.

Quark glanced back up and saw the stars had gone blue.

He glanced back down and made a surprised noise.

He was standing on someone’s head.

“Sorry,” Quark said hastily, lifting his foot.

Then he took several steps back as the figure stood up.

“You did not have to do that,” said the wraith, still wearing Dukat’s face, but strangely subdued. All its bravado seemed to have vanished.

And Quark realized he didn’t feel afraid anymore.

"You could have kept us under your heel," the wraith told him.

"Not my style," Quark replied. “Where are we?” he asked, as if he didn’t already know, but it never hurt to get a second opinion.

“We’re in the link,” said the wraith. “The one you know as Odo helped fashion this setting, so your linear mind would not be overwhelmed.”

“Oh,” said Quark. He blinked. “How you do know? And where’s Laas?”

“We are him, but we are hindered once again.” The wraith curled its lip into a half-hearted sneer. “The two have linked, and are more than two, and we cannot escape.”

“We can’t?” Quark turned to the door. “But there’s a door here.”

“The door remains locked.” The wraith looked at Quark with a mild disdain.

“No lock that can’t be picked,” Quark said cheerfully. He was in a great mood.

The wraith sat down on the ground, off to the door’s side, looking utterly miserable.

Quark’s mood only improved from there. “What happened to you, then? If we’re both in the link.”

“We had attempted to burn out your memories,” the wraith said dejectedly. “To purge the shapeshifter of you. But his identity has shaped itself into something that cannot be reabsorbed completely.”

Quark felt strangely calm as he understood what the wraith was saying. “You wanted to erase his identity completely.”

“But we could not erase it entirely, because it’s not entirely his to lose.”

“I could’ve told you that,” Quark said, walking over to the wraith. He thought briefly of Jadzia and wished she were there. “Speaking as someone who knows someone who used to be… well. That’s the thing, isn’t it?”

“What is?”

Quark sat down on the ground as well. “I guess this might not apply to non-linear beings, but for us linear ones… Some version of yourself lives on in the minds of all the people who love you or have ever interacted with you. All these pieces and reflections of yourself scattered in others that shape them somehow. Even if it's only the slightest degree.”

“The shapeshifter’s memories were tough to burn,” said the wraith. “You tampered with the flame.”

So his plan had worked, after all.

Somewhat, at least.

“It’s a knack,” Quark said. He stood up again. “So all I have to do is pick the lock? Seems simple enough.”

They both glanced back at the doorway.

“This is an old door,” Quark noted. “The lock’s out of date.”

“Yes,” said the wraith. “It’s modeled after the laboratory doors at the Bajoran Institute of Science.”

“That old place?” Quark whistled. “He really does hoard his memories, the stubborn old shapeshifter.”

And Quark set to work, fingers flying on the comm panel.

It briefly occurred to him that the illusion of a door, crafted for his linear mind, might not necessarily operate like an actual door would.

But Quark was used to adapting to situations out of the ordinary - contradiction as that was - and he gamely made the attempt anyway.

“What if,” said the wraith, “instead of burning your memories away, we send you back in the past? The timeline is illusory. We have the power to twist it around.”

“No, I like Odo as he is now,” Quark replied blithely as he tinkered with the lock. “He’s had some chances to mature and learn. It’s very attractive, honestly.”

The wraith made a face. “Is it, now. But we can make it so the mistakes would never be made. The pain, never felt.”

“What’s in it for you?” Quark asked, not seriously entertaining the notion, but curious nonetheless.

“The pain that never was would become ours to devour.”

“And I’d have to give up all those years we had together for a hypothetical perfect future? I suppose Jadzia wouldn’t be part of it either, huh?”

The wraith blinked. “Jadzia?”

“My friend,” Quark said. “The one your so-called brethren murdered?”

“Your dead friend would live again,” the wraith offered.

Quark paused.

He looked down at the wraith and thought it was strange that he did not cry.

“So what would happen to Ezri?” Quark asked. “Or any of the other people affected by altering the timeline?”

“What would it matter, as long as you had Odo?”

Quark turned back to the lock. “There’s too much at stake. It’s a bad bargain. I reject it.”

Suddenly the door morphed into the entrance to Odo's quarters.

And Quark grinned.

In almost no time at all, the controls beeped obligingly, and Quark heard a satisfying click in the door’s mechanism.

“Got it!” Quark gasped, laughing in delight.

He turned to look back at the wraith, but saw nothing there.

All that was left was him and the door.

He watched the door split down the middle and gently slide open.

And Odo was on the other side, looking at Quark as if he had just opened the vault to the Divine Treasury.

And Quark knew, he just _knew,_ that he had won.

They had both won.

“Quark!” Odo cried out in delight. He held what looked like a latinum tooth sharpener in his hand. “You’ll never believe this - I picked the lock!”

“So did I,” said Quark, gazing at Odo in amazement. “Where did you get a latinum tooth sharpener?”

“Made one out of memory.” Odo opened his palm and reabsorbed the sharpener back into himself. “From the time I confiscated yours after you opened that strongbox.”

“You remembered that?”

“I remember everything, Quark. And I’m not afraid of those memories, anymore.”

They smiled at each other from opposite sides of the door.

“I thought I was the one saving you,” Quark said, stepping closer to the doorway.

“Funny you should mention that,” Odo said, stepping closer as well. “I had the same thought. Great minds?”

“Great minds.” Quark blinked away tears. “Guess we're saving each other.”

Odo nodded. “Guess so.”

They reached for each other’s hands.

And as they grabbed hold of one another -

 

* * *

 

They fell out of the link with a thud, Quark landing sharply on his tailbone.

He shut his eyes to wince in pain on the cargo bay floor, barely paying attention to the sounds Odo made in the meantime.

When he was ready, Quark opened his eyes again.

Much to his relief, only Odo looked back at him. The wraith was nowhere to be seen.

Smiling, Odo threw an arm around his back and lifted the both of them up to a sitting position.

“Quark, you fool of a Ferengi, you did it!”

“I did?” Quark asked in a daze. “What did I do?”

Odo kissed him on the forehead, impulsive and quick, before pulling away to speak again.

“The wraith left Laas’s body almost immediately after we linked," Odo explained. "It seemed to flow up into the rafters. And then Laas returned to his natural state. I put him back here."

And he held up the mug.

Quark glanced up into the ceiling.

"Odo, is the wraith gone?"

"I don't know, but I don't think we should stick around long enough to find out - the station's falling into pieces all around us."

A piece of sheet metal peeled off the walls and crashed some distance away.

The noise jolted Quark to attention. He stared at the rapidly disintegrating surroundings and leapt to his feet.

Then the station’s computer, haunting and strange, warned in a disembodied voice that its systems were failing rapidly.

Quark groaned. “Not looking forward to explaining this to the Cardassians."

"You'll come up with something," Odo reassured him. “Vivid imagination, remember? Now let's get going -"

"How?" Quark asked, panic rising in his voice again once he realized another chunk of the station had impaled the runabout next to them. Smoke wafted upwards from the punctured hull with a casual slowness, as if it were another wraith intent on mocking the urgency of the situation.

"I've got somewhat of a plan, but you'll have to trust me. Here, take Laas.”

And Quark gripped onto the mug. “What’s the plan?”

He watched as Odo stretched an arm over to the airlock's manual controls, fingers flying, and his eyes widened with realization as Odo grabbed hold of him and began moving faster than he ever thought the Changeling could move.

"Odo?"

But before Quark could say another word, Odo flung them both out of the airlock.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> _Baby, take me to the feeling_  
>  _I'll be your sinner in secret_  
>  _When the lights go out_  
>  _Run away with me,_  
>  _Run away with me_  
>   
>  _Baby, every single minute_  
>  _I'll be your hero and win it_  
>  _When the lights go out_  
>  _Run away with me,_  
>  _Run away with me_  
>   
>  **carly rae jepsen** // run away with me  
>   
>   
>  TO BE CONTINUED!


	8. you're everything that i see

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Quark and Odo travel through the stars in an unconventional vessel. They discuss how hard it is to do these things alone. But they hold on, and soon enough, they’re going home.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> M for quite a bit of suggestive tenderness near the end.

Quark clutched the mug of Laas close to his chest. He clamped his hand firmly onto the lid and hoped that Odo had more of a plan besides simply flinging them both into oblivion.

Shutting his eyes, Quark concentrated on the surreal liquid sounds of Odo beginning to transform. He kept his eyes resolutely shut as the sounds cascaded around him and faded out of hearing. 

Vague visions of unexplainable shapes sprang to mind, things that might be too terrible to gaze upon directly. Quark figured it was best not to look until Odo gave him the all-clear, lest he accidentally see things that weren’t meant to be seen. Just because he trusted Odo didn’t mean he needed to know every little detail of whatever lunatic plan the Changeling had conjured up - Quark just needed the plan to succeed.

Then the noises stopped, and he couldn’t feel Odo’s arms around him anymore.

Quark couldn’t really feel anything at all besides the steel mug in his grasp. He gripped the handle even more tightly. It was cool to the touch without being too cold, and Quark took comfort from its Bolian-made sturdiness.

He tried not to panic as he realized his entire center of gravity had disappeared. Beautiful thing, gravity, and like many other things in his life, Quark didn't fully appreciate it until it had been taken away from him. 

He was floating along some unknown trajectory in the vastness of space, and he wondered if this was all still part of Odo’s plan.  

Something brushed the back of his neck in a gentle and foreign caress. The touch didn’t feel like anything Quark recognized, and he had touched and been touched by quite a few things over the years.

He shuffled through the possibilities of Odo’s mimicry, how they might have evolved beyond his imagination, but it was hard to imagine something beyond his imagination - the mere attempt left Quark’s head spinning.

Maybe something less far-fetched. Maybe Odo had morphed into a Quark-sized spacesuit, like the kind used to make repairs in outer space.

The thought of Odo shapeshifting himself into something specifically meant to fit Quark’s body sent goosebumps tingling through his skin and a dizziness through his head.  

It wasn’t exactly the kind of intimacy he had been hoping for all these years, but -

“Stop holding your breath, Quark.”

Odo's voice resonated around him in a disembodied sort of way, and Quark released a breath he hadn’t even been aware he was holding.

Much to his surprise, the air smelled sweet.  

So he opened his eyes.

The sight of countless plants struck Quark dumb.

A garden had sprung up in all directions around him, surrounding him with so many leaves of green that Quark couldn’t tell where one plant ended and another began. They blanketed the floor and then some, branching out and climbing up the walls towards a faint light from overhead. 

He looked up and saw the walls curving above him and around him in a glimmering translucent amber sphere. A soft glow spread outwards from the ceiling, basking everything in a faint luminescence.

As he continued glancing around, Quark saw that he had about an escape pod’s worth of space to move around, but he certainly didn’t feel any of the synthetic gravity he’d expect from an escape pod. Instead, he was gently floating against a bed of leaves as the sphere traveled through the stars.  

The longer Quark scrutinized the smooth walls, the more they reminded him of a flawlessly carved jewel. He felt like he was peering out from the inside of an opulent galactic topaz, shaped and polished to adorn the hand of some obscenely wealthy cosmic entity...

“Quark,” said Odo’s voice, impatient with the silence, though Quark could detect a note of concern as well. “Are you all right?”

“Odo?” Quark whipped his head around, but all he could see were the plants and the walls, and the blurred sight of stars outside. “I’m fine, where are you?”

“All around you,” Odo replied wryly.

The realization that he was floating inside Odo left Quark feeling a little queasy. “You’re joking.”

A faintly exasperated huff sent a tremor through the walls. “I most certainly am not.”

“Let me get this straight.” And Quark gestured vaguely at the entire inside of the sphere, not knowing where to direct his question. “All of this… is you?” 

“Yes,” Odo said, a touch of pride in his voice. “It’s all me, Quark.”

“Dare I ask how?”

“What do you mean?" 

“Well, usually when you shapeshift, you turn from one thing into another thing - ”

“Correct…”

“It’s a one to one ratio. So how can one of you be all of this?”

Odo chuckled and the entire sphere seemed to shake gently with his laughter. “The drop becomes the ocean. Or bubble, if you will.”

“Hell of a bubble,” Quark said. He never did have a head for subspace logistics, but he supposed it made sense, in a weird sort of Changeling way. “So… if you can be all these things at once, does this mean you can split up into multiple Odos? And each Odo is his own self?" 

“Hm.” Odo’s thoughtful hum echoed throughout Quark’s entire body in a pleasant manner. “No, not quite. Perhaps it’s easier if you think of all this as a particularly intricate outfit. The plants aren’t separate entities connected to me - they’re merely extensions of an appearance I’m adopting. Like a pattern on a garment.”

Quark had a brief vision of Odo wearing a long damask coat, each pattern springing to life from two dimensions to three. “If everything on the garment were alive and… producing oxygen?”

“Converting the air into something you can breathe, yes.” Another touch of pride entered Odo’s voice at that.

“Okay, Odo, you don’t have to go foraging for compliments.” Quark grinned. He liked the idea of Odo finally feeling comfortable enough to shapeshift as he pleased around Quark.“I’m impressed. Happy?”

“Hrm.” The bubble vibrated minutely in annoyance. “I wasn’t trying to forage for compliments, Quark. But thank you all the same.”

“Don’t mention it, you wily old shapeshifter.” Quark leaned back against the leaves as much as he could, mug in one hand, the other hand resting against the plants. The momentary weightlessness still disoriented him, but he was starting to adjust to the feeling.

It occurred to Quark that perhaps he should be more alarmed by the realization that he was now truly embarking on something beyond any Ferengi’s experience.

Old stories sprang to mind, narratives of taming beastly lovers and -

Quark wrinkled his nose at the thought of Odo being his ‘lover.’ The word didn’t seem to fit.

Odo was just... Odo.

And he was just Quark, and they were just floating through space.

“Quark, what are you thinking?”

“Just digesting things.” Quark gazed out the bubble’s walls at the blurred sight of the stars streaming by. He couldn’t tell how quickly they were moving, but it seemed fast enough. “What, you missed the sound of my voice or something?”

And Odo’s voice grew quiet, pensive. “Very. I never thought I’d miss it so much."

Quark blinked. He could tell Odo wasn’t simply referring to the present anymore. “Oh. Well.”

He idly ran his free hand through the plants underneath him, ruffling blades of grass as if they were hair. Flowers trailed his hand, blossoming briefly before retreating back into the green. It was as if Odo were eager to show off as much of his newfound abilities as he could.

“So when’d you learn how to do all this?” Quark asked, contemplating the shifting plants brushing his palm. “I thought you had to practice shapeshifting things?”

“When you’re not striving for accuracy, practicing is less necessary.”

Quark nodded. “Got it.” He didn’t, exactly, but it was close enough. “I _am_ getting some fantastic mental images of you practicing being a bubble, by the way. All floating around the station and everything.”

“Or hiding in one of your drinks?” Odo suggested.

“...You _didn’t_ ,” Quark said, eyes widening. He had often suspected Odo of engaging in such subterfuge, but never actually wanted to be proven right about it.

“Only once,” Odo told him.

“Once?”

“Until I realized such a covert disguise ran the risk of my being imbibed by accident.”

Quark made a face. “Ugh. Glad you thought of other ways to be a busybody instead.”

The bubble wobbled faintly in amusement. “It did tempt me, Quark. Trying to think of ways to frighten you. But, eventually, I realized my energies would be better spent elsewhere.” 

“Oh, sure. We couldn’t have a chief of security spending all his time trying to scare the local bartender everyday. You’d have been in dereliction of your duties. When did you stop hiding yourself to scare me?" 

Another amused wobble. “Quite a few years ago, Quark. Once the Federation took over command of the station, actually.”

“Figured,” Quark sighed. “Of course you wouldn’t tell me until now. Good to know all those years of licking things were put to good use...”

There was a pause, as if Odo was trying to determine whether he had heard Quark correctly.

“ _Licking_ things?” Odo asked eventually.

“In case they were you in disguise,” Quark said, as if the answer should have been obvious.

“Not a terribly efficient mode of investigation. I’m surprised I didn’t receive any complaints about a rogue bartender’s licking spree while I was the chief of security.” 

“It wasn’t a _spree,_ ” Quark clarified. “Just a few cautionary licks here and there.”

Odo chuckled. “Were you hoping to find me at the end of your tongue, Quark?" 

The Changeling’s tone made his lobes blush. “Maybe. No. I don’t know.”

“Mm-hmm.”

“Odo?”

“Yes?”

“It’s weird talking to you without seeing your face.”

An iridescent sheen ran down the walls of the bubble. “Is it?”

“Yeah.”

“Does it frighten you?”

“No. I just miss seeing your stupid Changeling face, that’s all.”

The bubble shook again, and Quark heard the faint sound of goo noises rippling towards him.

He glanced down and yelped when Odo’s face emerged in the leaves below, as if peeping in from another world.

“Is this better?” Odo asked with a droll smile, his face wreathed by greenery and errant branches.

“No, that’s worse,” Quark said, laughing. “I take it back!”

Without a single change in expression, Odo shapeshifted the edges of his face until he formed a head amongst the leaves. “How about now?”

“No,” Quark groaned. “Now it just looks like you’ve been buried in the ground. Like the time some Orion pirates threatened to leave me in the desert after a bad deal.”

“Pirates?” Odo frowned. “When was this?”

“When I was a younger and dumber Ferengi,” Quark said dismissively. “But not so dumb to get buried in the sand, mind you - I managed to save myself in the end.”

Still frowning, Odo shapeshifted once more and reassumed his habitual humanoid form. He retained his minimalist Bajoran garb from before, cutting a fine figure in muted charcoal as he lay in the grass next to Quark.

“Strange,” Odo murmured, propping himself up on one elbow to gaze down at Quark’s face. “I used to enjoy the thought of you being in peril. And now even the mere mention of your past risk-taking disturbs me.”

“Hey. It’s in the past,” Quark said. He reached up to pat Odo on the cheek. “Don’t worry about it.”

“I may never stop worrying about you, Quark.”

“That’s on you, then.” Off Odo’s dismayed look, Quark grinned. “Odo, I’m not about to go _looking_ for trouble.”

“I should hope not,” Odo grumbled.

“My days of dealing with pirates are over. Probably.”

“Quark.”

“Almost completely.”

“Quark…” 

“I’m joking. Honestly. Coincidentally,” Quark added, with the practiced casualness of an expert tongo player, “you might be interested to know that there was a precipitous drop in certain activities shortly after you left the station.” 

Odo tilted his head. “Oh?”

“According to Ro’s analysis of the security statistics, anyway.” Quark arched a browridge. “Weird coincidence, by the way. A significant number of things became less interesting after your departure. It’s like I only did them to grab your attention or something.”

A dismayed grunt. “My _attention_?”

Quark shrugged. “Had to get it somehow.”

Suddenly Odo leaned over him, dipping his head low to brush his nose against Quark’s in a fond, urgent nuzzle.  

“What was that for?” Quark asked, once Odo had pulled away.

“Once we return to the station,” Odo murmured, “I intend to pay you as much attention as you can handle.” 

The Changeling’s low and suggestive tone made Quark shiver in anticipation. “Oh, good,” he said weakly. Then, with a hopeful gleam in his eye, Quark added, “Because you owe me a lot."

“I do,” Odo said, and there was a solemn undercurrent to his reply, as if he were thinking of other debts unpaid, ones that couldn’t be measured in attention alone. “And I tend to spoil you rotten, Quark. You deserve it.”

For a second, Quark was tempted to tell Odo that he felt spoiled rotten already, basking in the center of Odo’s undivided attention as they traveled through the stars.  

Instead, he grinned up at Odo and said, “Can’t argue with that.”

It occurred to Quark that he was still holding onto the mug of Laas, so he set it down, and watched a vine curl around the mug’s handle, holding it in place. 

After he was satisfied that the mug of Laas wouldn’t simply float around the bubble, Quark turned back to Odo. He reached up to loop his arms around the Changeling’s neck, and asked, “So how soon until we’re back at the station?”

“I’m not entirely sure,” Odo admitted, looking faintly sheepish. “But hopefully not too much longer.”

Quark’s grin faded somewhat. “Hopefully? I thought you said you had a plan.”

“I said I had somewhat of a plan.”

 “...And what does this somewhat-of-a-plan entail, exactly?” Quark’s pulse began to race. “Do we have enough time to get back to the station before you need to regenerate?”

Odo sighed. “I hope so. The ship components I’m emulating are based on some of Laas’s old designs for traveling between planets. He’s quite advanced when it comes to shapeshifting, but not to the extent of emulating warp capabilities just yet.” 

“But how about to the extent of us-not-dying-in-space capabilities?”

Odo leaned down to rest his forehead against Quark’s. “Don’t worry. Laas and I worked out a back-up plan while we were linked with the wraith.”

The touch helped Quark’s pulse settle down, but not by much. “How? I thought the wraith took him over.” 

“The wraith couldn’t retain its power over him when you and I joined the link.” Odo smiled. “It’s difficult to explain the exact sequence. Laas was tired, but still capable of communicating. We determined his cycle will end before mine begins. He’ll take the next shift, and, if needed, we’ll alternate until we arrive back at the station. Laas will likely be able to travel faster than I can. It shouldn’t take too long.”

Quark blinked. “Okay. I think I get it.”

“Good.” Odo nuzzled his nose again before pulling away to lie down next to Quark, side by side.

“Hey, Odo?” 

“Yes?”  

“Speaking of the wraith - did you see what I saw in the link? The door on the island?”

“In a sense.”

“So when I was on one side of the door, were you really on the other side?” 

“A part of me, at least.” Odo eyed him carefully. “It’s similar to this bubble, Quark. Part of me was the link in its entirety - the island, the door, and the stars. And part of me was what you saw on the opposite side of the door, picking the lock to get to you.”

The thought stretched Quark’s imagination, but it also made sense. “Did picking the lock do anything real?”

“What do you mean?”

Quark scrunched his face up in concentration. “We unlocked the door from both sides, right? What did we unlock?”

“Oh, that.” Odo smiled. “A gateway, of sorts. To my shapeshifting abilities.” He reached out and pulled Quark close. “Parts of myself that I hadn’t even known were locked were suddenly released. And once those barriers were released…” Odo looked up at the stars, the blurred lights of distant systems drifting overhead. “Possibilities I had never dreamed of suddenly became attainable. And it was easy to subdue the wraith after that.”

“I did all that?”

“The both of us, Quark.” Odo tucked his chin on Quark’s shoulder and gazed at him with a fond sort of intensity. “But you were at least partially responsible.”

“Happy to hear it.” Quark lowered his voice and waggled his browridges. “Now you really do owe me.”

“I do.”

“It’s not often you’re lucky enough to know a vanquisher of wraiths.”

“Wraith in the singular, Quark.” And Odo tightened the arm he had wrapped around Quark’s waist. “I should hope we never encounter another wraith in the future.”

“Oh, me too. Let the wormhole aliens stay in their wormholes or fire caves or whatever."

Odo chuckled. “I’m glad you agree.”

They held each other in silence for a moment, until Odo spoke up again.

“Quark?”

“Yeah, Odo?”

“This was supposed to be the easy part.”

“What was?”

“Coming back from the Link.” Odo laughed ruefully. “Reuniting with you. It all seemed so simple before. I never thought we’d run into such risks.”

“Odo, I don’t think anyone ever anticipates running into a rogue pah-wraith in the middle of nowhere.”

“Not that. Well, yes, that, but not exactly that.” Odo sighed. “What I’m trying to say is that I never thought you could be in danger because of me. Or that I would ever be the cause of your peril.”

Quark wriggled closer to Odo. “I don’t mind.”

A humorless chuckle. “You should. I do.”

“Well, I don’t. And I don’t care if we get into danger sometimes,” Quark said. “I'd rather be in danger with you than safe with anyone else.”

The entire bubble rippled with tremors as Odo dove in for a kiss, pressing Quark backwards into the leaves, slipping a hand behind the back of Quark’s neck to hold him in place, or caress him, or both.

Quark whined softly when Odo pulled back, breaking off the kiss far too soon for his liking.

“Careful what you say, Quark.” And Odo drummed his fingertips against the back of Quark’s neck in a playful rhythm. “We may not make it back to the station at this rate.”

Quark groaned. “Then why’d you start kissing me?”

“It felt appropriate under the circumstances.”

“Hmph,” Quark huffed, imitating Odo’s usual displeased noise with unerring precision. “You’re a tease, Odo.”

The Changeling scoffed fondly. “This from one of the most popular Ferengi on Risa?”

A fiery blush immediately swept through Quark’s cheeks. “What do _you_ know about my reputation on Risa?”

“Myself, not much. Lieutenant Dax, on the other hand, may have blurted out quite a few of Jadzia’s memories during our little chat.”

Quark shut his eyes and buried his face in Odo’s chest. “When?” he mumbled.

“When you and Nerys were talking in her office.” Odo chuckled as he ran a hand down Quark’s back, rubbing it consolingly. “I’m not judging you, Quark. Though I may have to have words with a few of your acquaintances if they ever set foot on the station.”

“Please don’t,” Quark said. His ears burned, but not in the fun way. “How was I supposed to know one of the fertility idols advertised that I had a tight -”

“You don’t have to explain yourself to me,” Odo said quietly.

“Because Ezri already did?”

“No, Quark. Because it doesn’t matter.”

“Oh.” He couldn’t help but feel a little disappointed. “I was kind of hoping it was because you were jealous.”

“That’s not untrue,” Odo said mildly, “but it’s not the only reason. You shouldn’t ever have to feel embarrassed around me, Quark. Not from now on, at least.”

“Yeah, well.” Quark lifted his head away from Odo’s chest so they could look at each other. “I’ll give it a shot.”

“Good.”

“And when we get back to the station, I’ll be more than happy to show you what earned me that reputation on Risa.”

Odo chuckled. “You don’t have to. But if you _want_ to -” 

“Believe me, I want to -”

“ - Then I’ll be more than happy to take you up on your offer.”

Quark was about to comment on Odo’s suspiciously Ferengi-like reply, when he interrupted himself with a yawn.

“You should get some rest, Quark.”

“But I want to stay up and talk with you.”

“We’ll have plenty of time for talking, later.” Odo stroked his face, watched his eyelids grow heavy. “I’ll still be here.”

"Hrmph. If you say so," Quark mumbled.

Odo's chest made a comfortable pillow, though he suspected the Changeling might have shifted his chest to feel even more comfortable.  

He'd only rest his eyes for a moment...

 

* * *

 

He was dreaming again. 

He was sitting at the bar, and Jadzia was holding up a glass of tranya for a toast.

Quark glanced down and saw he had a glass in his hand as well. The tranya was cold and the condensation dampened his palm, wetting his fingertips.

“To new beginnings,” Jadzia said with a grin.

Their glasses clinked together, the ice inside just beginning to melt.

There was so much he wanted to tell her, everything she missed while she had been away, because it was only temporary, wasn’t it -

 

* * *

 

When Quark woke up again, there wasn’t a plant to be seen.

Instead, he was lying in a bio-bed, underneath the bright lights of a Federation-style infirmary.

It took him a second to recognize where he was, and he still felt like he was dreaming, when -

“Quark!”

And he saw Odo lean over him with a smile.

“Odo?” Quark blinked. “What happened? Are we back at the station already?”

“Almost,” Odo replied. “We’re on the _Defiant_. Nerys and Ro -”

“Wait, _Ro_ -”

“ - picked us up while you were asleep. I tried to wake you, but it couldn’t be helped. You really do need to catch up on your sleep more often, Quark.”

“Uh-huh,” Quark said, sitting straight up. An image of the two Bajorans at prayer swam in his mind. Maybe Sisko came to them in a vision, or a Prophet seeking to counteract the destructive forces of the rogue wraith. “How’d they find us?”

Odo grunted in incredulous amusement. “Garak, of all people, contacted Nerys after learning of Empok Nor’s troubles. The Cardassians had been monitoring the station. Apparently the sudden disruption of their monitoring devices was cause for concern. I’m told the Obsidian Order doesn’t take kindly to interference with their technology.”

“Bless their terrifying little spy hearts,” Quark said with relief. “What about the wraith?”

“The away mission sent to investigate the station reported unusually high levels of chroniton radiation, likely from the torpedoes that were left in the airlock with us. It would appear the wraith destroyed itself. Our runabout was salvaged from the ruins, which was when Garak contacted Deep Space Nine. We were lucky, Quark. If we had remained in the station after the torpedoes went off, we might have been sent to another time altogether.”

Quark nodded. “Good thing you finally fulfilled that lifelong wish of yours, then.”

Odo tilted his head. “What wish?”

“To throw me out of the airlock, duh.”

“Quark. There’s a distinct difference between executing an empty threat and saving our lives.” 

“A likely excuse,” Quark said, but he didn’t bother hiding the fondness in his voice.

“And there are other wishes I plan to fulfill when we return to the station.” 

"Are there, now. Like what?”

And Odo leaned in close enough to speak directly into Quark’s ear.

“A certain scoundrel’s wish for attention,” Odo said, lowering his voice to a gravelly whisper. “I believe I owe you several years’ worth.” 

Quark exhaled shakily. “Well. I’m not greedy -”

“ _Really_ ,” Odo said dryly.

“- You don’t have to, uh, pay me all at once.” Quark bit his lip. “How much longer until we’re back on the station?”

“About an hour.”

Quark sighed. “Can’t wait.”

 

* * *

 

The rest of the journey home was blissfully uneventful.

Quark was relieved that Ro and Odo seemed to get along well. He wasn’t sure what to expect (a small part of him had wondered, idly, if they might clash over his affections - which he didn't want, obviously, but wanting wasn't the same as wondering). But he did have a type, and it just so happened that the two types got along swimmingly - as swimmingly as two taciturn security-minded individuals with a shared penchant for teasing a certain bartender could get.

Though Quark was glad they didn’t have a prolonged conversation in his presence, he couldn't decide if that was better than them having a prolonged conversation in his absence.

*

It was all a bit of a blur once they returned to the station. They took their leave of Ro and Kira, taking care to express their gratitude for the rescue, and headed straight to the Infirmary to drop Laas off with Dr. Bashir.

(Quark reassured Odo that they could come up with a better identification for Laas besides ‘random other Changeling we happened to find while looking for another Changeling,’ at a later time.)

*

Soon enough, they were back in Quark’s quarters.

Soon enough, they were sprawled on his bed.

And soon enough, they were finally free to indulge each other in ways that crowded out his old dreams with ease.

*  

Odo’s hands rested on his hips, thumbs digging through the layers of fabric, and Quark’s pulse began to pound in his ears. 

He braced himself for the inevitable request to remove his clothing, for Odo to insist on stripping off each item one by one, until there was nothing left to get in the way.

But Odo merely gazed at him, fingers gently massaging Quark through his clothes. 

“What are you waiting for?” Quark asked, unused to such patient surveillance. Except, he realized with a rapidly spreading blush, when Odo had eyed him in the bar before, seemingly always able to keep a watchful eye on Quark, no matter how many other people stood between them.

“Your permission,” Odo replied simply. 

There wasn’t even a hint of suggestiveness in the Changeling’s voice. Yet a strange warmth spread through Quark at the thought of Odo being so mindful of his wants, so careful not to do anything that might cause him any discomfort.

“Of course, your clothes _will_ get filthy if you leave them on,” Odo remarked. And he did add a suggestive grit to his voice that time, and it was terribly unfair how well it worked.

“Oh yeah?” Quark asked weakly. “What kind of filth do you have in mind?”

“Whatever it takes to leave you satisfied.” A mischievous gleam flickered through Odo’s eyes. “The more pleasure you feel, the more I will, too. An echo of it, at least."

He dipped forward to press a kiss to the corner of Quark's mouth, and Quark did notice a frisson of electric sensation passing between them. The feeling intensified as Odo then focused his attentions to nuzzling Quark's ear, provoking a soft, high whimper in response. Odo chuckled. 

"So you see, Quark, it’s in my best interest to please you. Whether you are undressed or not is inconsequential.” And Odo pulled back just enough for Quark to see the corners of Odo’s mouth twitch upwards into a smirk. “And if it so happens that your clothes might suffer as a result, well. That’s on you, isn’t it?”

And suddenly Quark was ready to abandon those old, ridiculous, outdated Ferengi habits.

*

There was a tenderness to Odo’s kisses that Quark wasn’t used to receiving.

He carded his fingers through Odo's hair and thought of the flowers that bloomed underneath his palm earlier, and how the way Odo pressed him back against his pillows echoed how Odo pressed him back into the leaves, slowly seeking all the ways they could fit together.

Each brush of Odo's lips against his felt like an affirmation, and the bone-deep sounds Odo made in his mouth felt better than any music he had ever heard. 

Affirmation upon affirmation, and all the attention he could stand. It was more than he could stand, but he wasn't about to give up yet.

Every little gesture added something new to his mental inventory of details about Odo. Odo's hand, resting on his bare shoulder to push him back down and prevent him from overexerting himself. Odo’s hair tickling his ear as the Changeling hunted for the most tender spot to nuzzle on the crook of his neck. Odo’s mouth, smiling against his own. 

Words for rain, words that most Ferengi never bothered saying to outsiders, sprang to Quark’s mind. The subtler variations, the sweeter storms, words Quark had almost forgotten for lack of use - somehow Odo had coaxed them out of his memories, given him new reasons to use them again.

*

Quark fought with himself over whether he wanted to rush such a long-awaited moment to its conclusion.

He couldn’t believe it was finally happening.

He had hoped, of course, that it might happen, and he had paid for those hopes dearly over the years. All those years of longing and denial and falling into bed with other people, all those years of loving feelings that he forced himself to invest elsewhere, never quite achieving the satisfaction he craved so desperately. 

Years of fighting with Odo just to feel like they had something special between them and only them, when they always had something between them, something they constantly danced around, never quite acknowledging, even when he sometimes suspected Odo knew.

Years of leaving each other clues, so glaringly obvious to everyone besides themselves, clues they ignored as they fought to cover them back up again, masking their feelings, burying them in anger. Somehow always finding a way to keep fighting, never being able to stomach the end of the fight for long.

Years of watching Odo walk away from him, of thinking Odo had walked away from him for one last time -

And now Odo was treating him like a bankrupt pauper encountering gold-pressed latinum for the first time, like Quark was worth all the dreams locked beyond reach in the Divine Treasury, like there was nothing he could possibly value more than Quark’s pleasure in this moment.

It was enough to make a grown Ferengi cry, so he did.

 

* * *

 

“Quark?”

“Mmm.”

“Are you happy?”

Quark buried his face in Odo’s chest. He figured he could explain the post-coital tears the next day. “Mm-hmm.”

“Good,” Odo murmured.

A gentle rustle of shapeshifting goo noises preceded the feeling of something soft and blanket-like draping over him.

Odo’s arm transformed, Quark supposed.

It covered his shoulders with just the right amount of warmth, shielding him from the cool night air.

Quark recalled the time a knight in Jadzia’s holoprogram whipped off a cloak to lay across his shoulders. It had flustered him at the time. The knight had dirty blonde hair and a grim smile, and a vaguely unfinished face. Jadzia pretended she had no idea what Quark was talking about when he voiced his suspicions.

He wouldn’t tell Odo, though.

Best not to give the Changeling too much of an ego boost.

Not yet, anyway. Thrice in one night was plenty enough. 

The transformed arm felt soothing around him, but it wasn’t nearly as soothing as the very welcome reality of Odo’s presence.

Quark smiled as he drifted off to sleep.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> _I got my eyes on you,_  
>  _you're everything that I see_  
>  _I want your hot love and emotion, endlessly_  
>  _I can't get over you,_  
>  _you left your mark on me_  
>  _I want your hot love and emotion, endlessly_  
>   
>  **drake** // hold on, we're going home  
>   
>  **bonus level 1:** [NOW WITH AMAZING ART OF THE BUBBLE SCENE](https://ds9shameblog.tumblr.com/post/161833593169/soft-galaxies-fic-having-a-bubble-full-of-plants). ;___; thanks, snoozlebee! <3
> 
>  **bonus level 2** : [ANOTHER AMAZING BUBBLE SCENE ILLUSTRATION](https://realshadeslimmy.tumblr.com/post/167844172222/look-i-read-that-one-fic-with-the-odo-bubble-and)! thanks, realshadeslimmy! :3


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